


The Fire Inside

by SaxonSpud



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Major Character Undeath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 53,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxonSpud/pseuds/SaxonSpud
Summary: When Dutch sends Arthur and Charles to bury Jake Adler they find a young woman trying to defend the property. Blair Adler is the daughter of Jake Adler, however Sadie is not her mother. The two women have an intense Hatred of each other. How will having these two women in the gang affect it. Will they side with one woman or the other, or spend most of the time trying to stop them from killing each other





	1. Chapter 1

You stared across the snow covered landscape, shivering.. Looking at the smouldering remains of what was your home. A new start, now just a pile of ashes.

The men had gone, the ones that had burnt your house to the ground. You'd seen them ride away, with that woman. Sadie Adler. Your fathers new wife.

When the first lot of men had shown up, he'd told you to run, when Sadie had tried to shoot one, and missed. He'd known that it was going to end in trouble.

You'd watched the house from a distance, seen them toss your fathers dead body in the cart, like some worthless piece of trash. Seen the other men turn up, seen the shoot out, then the house ablaze.

Watched as Sadie had gone with them, one meal ticket gone up in smoke, time to find another. She was always good with the crocodile tears.

After they left, you'd spent the night in the barn. The bastards had even stolen your horse.

You walked across to the burnt out remains, hoping to find something, anything. You hadn't eaten for three days. The clothes you were wearing, certainly weren't doing anything to keep out the cold. You still had the pistol your father had shoved into your hand, when he told you to run. Shame there was nowhere to run to, on this god forsaken mountain.

You were rummaging through the ashes when you heard a voice yell. You quickly looked up to see two men.

Bastards you thought, they've come back.

You ducked behind one of the timber uprights, that was still standing.

"Get away from here, you murdering bastards!" You pointed your pistol towards them, and fired of a shot.

The shot missed by a mile, your hand was shaking so much. You'd never shot a gun before, let alone at a person.

It maybe had the desired effect though, they'd hidden behind an old shed.

"Listen miss, we don't wanna hurt ya."

Like you believed that, you fired off another shot, splintering the wood on the old shed. At least your aim was improving, and your hand was shaking a little bit less.

"Get off my land, or I swear I'll kill ya!" You yelled.

You were so focussed on the man, behind the shed, you didn't notice that the second man had crept behind the house. Not until you heard the crunch of his foot behind you. By the time you had snapped your head around, he had grabbed you. His arms pinning your arms to your side. The gun dropping from your hand.

"Get off me you fucking murdering red-neck," you yelled, trying to wriggle out of his grip. When that didn't work, you kicked back with one of your legs. You foot made contact with his boot, but not enough to cause any damage, or to make him release his grip any.

He dragged you out of the cabin, and the other man emerged from behind the old shed.

"You might wanna grab the gun, she dropped," the man that was holding you said to the other one.

You carried on trying to squirm out of his grip.

The man looked at you, and smirked. "She's a feisty one Charles!" He tilted your chin up gently.

"Get your filthy hands off me," you hissed.

"Pretty too!" he added.

You stared at the man in front of you, his blue eyes boring into you. You could see dirty blonde hair, poking out from under his hat, his beard the same colour, covering scars on his chin. In another situation, you might have found him handsome, but right now hatred burned within you. Blocking out everything else.

Charles, the man who was holding you grunted, "What are we gonna do with her, we still need to bury the rancher."

The man hummed, well we cant leave her here, we'll have to take her back with us.

Charles chuckled, "that might be easier said than done."

"What's ya name kid?" the man asked.

"Fuck off you piece of shit," you growled.

"Well don't say I didn't give you a chance kid," he stated.

The next thing you felt was his balled fist make contact with your jaw. You didn't even have a chance to scream or cry, before you saw stars. The last thing you heard before everything went black was Charles.

"Arthur, was that really necessary!"

When you opened your eyes, it took a moment for your eyes to focus. What didn't take long was for you to feel the throbbing in your jaw, or the taste of blood in your mouth. The ropes around your wrist had already started to chafe, thankfully your jeans protected your ankles.

Not that you could see much. You'd been thrown over the back of a horse, so all you could see was the snow covered ground, or if you angled your head, the boot of the rider.

You groaned, as you tried to loosen the ropes on your wrist, to no avail.

"I hope you ain't gonna cause me no more trouble, kid?" the rider asked.

You huffed, but decided against saying anything. Mostly because your face hurt, but also because you thought you're situation was a bit precarious, to say the least.

"Good!" he chuckled, "I'd hate to have to thump you again!"

You closed your eyes, he was gonna be the first one you gutted, given half a chance, you thought.

You felt the movement stop, and heard the crunch, as the man dismounted and his boots hit the icy ground.

"What've you got there, Arthur?"

This was a different voice another man. This must be where the rest of the bastards were, who killed you're father, then set the house on fire.

"Found another one," Arthur replied. "She put up a hell of a fight, tried to shoot me."

The man chuckled. "you better bring her in!"

Arthur, pulled you from the horse. After standing you on the ground, he sliced the ropes around your ankles leaving your feet free. His hand's rested on your shoulders, guiding you towards the cabin.

"Get your filthy murdering hands of me, ya piece of shit," you hissed.

Arthur let go of you, he likely knew you wouldn't run, not with your hands bound behind you.

You spat the remaining blood out of your mouth, wincing as the movement of your mouth made you face smart.

"I see what you mean, Arthur!"

You looked up to see a man, slightly older than Arthur, but with a slightly different aura about him, his hair was dark, and his eyes dark brown, appraising you. A smirk on his lips almost hidden by the moustache and soul patch on his chin.

You had the feeling, one word from him and you'd be dead. You narrowed your eyes, trying to decide what to do for the best. If anyone would want to make you run, it would be him.

Before you had a chance to decide, a door burst open and Sadie strode towards you.

"You little piece of shit," she yelled, "you left me!"

You glared at her, "didn't take you long to find another man, my daddy is no use to you, now he's dead, you fucking whore!" you screamed.

Sadie raised her hand and brought it down hard, towards your cheek. You braced yourself for contact, but it was never made.

Her hand was caught in mid-air

"That's quite enough, Mrs Adler." The dark haired man warned, his hand gripping her wrist.

"Miss Grimshaw, escort Mrs Adler back inside."

He glared at you, "Miss Adler, I presume?"

You nodded, glaring back.

"You better come with me," he commanded.

You felt Arthur's hand on your shoulder once again, this time you kept your mouth shut, as you followed the strange dark haired man into a cabin on the other side of the compound.

Arthur guided you to a chair, which was situated in front of a fire. The pressure on your shoulders, forcing you to sit.

The dark haired man, put his hand to your face. You pulled away, not only because you didn't want him touching you, but also your face was sore.

"Calm down miss, no one is going to harm you, I just wanted to check the damage on your face."

"Maybe you should train your hound to be a bit less handy with his fists," you snarled.

The man chuckled, "perhaps, and perhaps I should introduce myself, I'm Dutch Van Der Linde, and my hound," he smirked, "is Arthur Morgan."

"Pleasure," you dead-panned.

"Now the question is, Miss Adler, are you going to behave if I get Mr Morgan to untie you?" Dutch asked.

You glared at Dutch, "and how would you suggest I behave to the men who burnt my home to the ground," you hissed.

"Your mother..." Dutch started, but you quickly interrupted him.

"That whore is not my mother," you snapped.

Dutch frowned, "ahh, I see..."

"No you don't see, you don't see at all, you have absolutely no idea," you snarled.

Dutch glared at you, his face beginning to flush, his fists started to clench. Then he turned and walked across to the other side of the room. He stood looking out of one of the small cabin windows, for a few moments.

The pressure on your shoulders increased slightly, as Arthur tensed.

You watched as Dutch took a deep breath, and returned to where you were sitting. His fists were now unclenched, and the colour of his face had returned to normal. Arthur's grip on you relaxed.

"You must be hungry," Dutch commented, "Mrs Adler said the other men turned up three days ago. I assume that was when you ran off."

You closed your eyes and gently shook your head, "I didn't run off, My father told me to get out of there," you swallowed back the lump that was forming in the back of your throat. You'd heard the gunshot as you ran away. That sound would be stuck in your mind forever, the sound that meant your father was dead.

You took a deep breath. "Then I watched you set fire to my house," your voice cracked slightly.

Dutch looked at you, then glanced at Arthur.

"Arthur, can you go and find Miss Adler something to eat," he said.

You felt the Arthur remove his hand from your shoulder. You heard the door open and close behind you.

"The fire," Dutch began, "was an accident. Your...Mrs Adler became..."

"Hysterical!" you interrupted, "wouldn't be the first time," you huffed sarcastically.

Dutch hummed. "It appears that you and Mrs Adler have...history. I am slightly surprised she didn't mention you, when we brought her here last night."

You spat out a laugh, "that's one way of putting it. She probably hoped I'd frozen to death."

Dutch pulled a knife from his belt, and walked behind you. You tensed slightly, but relaxed when you felt the knife slice through the ropes which bound your wrists.

"Aren't you afraid I might try and kill you?" You asked.

Dutch chuckled. "you might be angry, even enraged. But you're by no means stupid."

You nodded. He was right in both respects, you were angry, but not stupid. Presently this man and his gang, were your only means of getting off this mountain.

The cabin door opened again, and Arthur came in with a bowl of food, and a cup of coffee. He was closely followed by an older woman.

Arthur put the food and coffee down on a crate which was next to the chair were you sitting.

He looked at Dutch, completely ignoring you.

"I thought Susan should check her injuries."

Dutch nodded, "good idea, son."

The older woman looked at you and scowled. A look that didn't go unnoticed by Dutch.

"Gently Susan, there are two sides to every story, as well you know," he warned.

She sighed, "do you have a first name miss?"

"Yes," you replied, "its Blair."

Susan nodded, "well Blair, let me take a look at your face, and your wrists."

You let her look. You'd seen the scowl on her face and wondered what Sadie had said about you. You could guarantee it was nothing nice. Your hatred of her was only surpassed, by her hatred of you.

Susan dabbed some ointment on the rope burns. There wasn't much she could do about the bruising on your face. She passed you a glass of something.

"here, drink this," she suggested.

You swallowed the drink, and grimaced. It was whisky. You really didn't like it, but you knew it would help with the pain.

Susan rolled her eyes, at the look on your face. "if it swells put some ice on it," she huffed. She walked out the cabin without another word.

Arthur passed you the bowl of food.

"here, figure you must be hungry, n' sorry 'bout ya face." he added.

"Thanks," you mumbled, and took the bowl.

You put the first spoonful in your mouth, then ate the rest of it quickly. A little too quickly for polite company. You saw Dutch smirk, But he said nothing.

You slowly sipped the coffee, you'd tasted worse. At least it was wet and warm.

You glanced between the two men. Arthur Morgan and Dutch Van Der Linde.

You knew who they were, you'd seen the wanted posters. Maybe they were telling the truth, maybe the fire had been an accident.

It didn't much matter now, you were homeless, rescued by a bunch of outlaws.

"I don't suppose you still have my gun?" You asked.

Arthur chuckled, "given the circumstances, and the fact that you tried to shoot me and Charles, I think it might be best if I looked after it for you. Besides, don't really want you trying to shoot Mrs Adler!"

You visualised in your head, pointing the gun at Sadie, and pulling the trigger, you smirked.

Dutch pointed towards a door inside the cabin.

"There's a bed in there, I suggest you get some rest. I guess you haven't had much, over the past few days."

You stood up, and headed towards the door, "Thank you," you mumbled.

You closed the door behind you, but listened at the door. You knew eavesdropping was wrong, but given the circumstances.

"What is it with Mrs Adler and the girl?" Arthur asked.

"I've no idea son, but there's definitely some history. The rancher you buried, was her father, and Mrs Adler's husband. Beyond that I don't know." Dutch replied.

"Well best we keep them apart, least ways until we get off this mountain. Like I said, she's a feisty one, given half the chance I reckon she'd kill Mrs Adler, stone dead!" Arthur added.

"Well best we don't give her the opportunity, we might be able to use someone with fire in their belly like that though!" Dutch commented.

You'd heard enough. No one was gonna use you for anything.

You lay down on the bed, and covered yourself with a blanket. Your idea had been to rest, but not necessarily fall asleep. You still didn't trust these outlaws. But you're body had different ideas and you soon drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

You guessed you had slept for pretty much the rest of the day and all night. When you looked out the window, there was a just a hint of light, as you saw the golden orb, which was the sun, just peaking above the horizon.

You shivered, you were still cold. Everyone around here seemed to be wearing thick winter coats, you weren't, so you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, before opening the bedroom door.

Glancing around at the room you had been brought to last night, you checked out the fire. It had all but died, with just a few glowing embers. You walked over and held out your hands, but there was little additional warmth to be had.

It looked like no one was up yet either. This was good, for you at least. There was something you had to do, cold or not. You wrapped the blanket around you a bit tighter, and headed for the door.

It was still bitterly cold outside, but at least it wasn't snowing. You scanned the area, and saw a young dark skinned man at the end of the compound. There were entrances to the east and the west. But only one guard. He couldn't be in two places at once thankfully. You spied your horse, Lily. The one they had taken from the barn. Luckily for you she was hitched, at the opposite end to where the young man was guarding.

You shivered again, and crept over to her, quietly unhitching her, then double checking that the guard was looking elsewhere, you quietly led her out of the compound.

You quickly mounted and pushed her into a gently trot. Holding your hands to her neck for warmth. You managed to get your bearings, thanks to the position of the sun, and quickly headed back to the ranch.

Thankfully the ranch wasn't far from the old mining town of Colter. Your father had told you about it, when you first arrived. Telling you it was deserted, and best avoided. You now knew why. It was an ideal camp for the lawless. You did wonder if your father had known how bad it was out here with outlaws and such, before he came. Possibly you thought, which was why it had taken so long for him to send for you. Or maybe that was down to Sadie as well. A loose end she couldn't too easily deal with.

As you approached the ranch, your breath hitched in your throat. Arthur Morgan and the other man, Charles, had been true to their word. They'd even fashioned a cross, where they had buried your father.

You quickly hitched Lily. There was something you had to do first, before you said a proper goodbye.

You walked back in to the remains of the house. Right to the back, where your bedroom had been.

Everything was mostly burnt, and ashen. You dug around in the soot, searching. Your fingers eventually found what you were looking for. You were thankful that metal doesn't tend to burn. You dusted off the soot, from the small box, and opened it. The contents were still intact. A small silver locket, on a chain. You quickly slipped it over your head, and went back outside, to where your fathers grave was.

You put your hand inside your boot, and pulled out a knife. The outlaws hadn't bothered to check to see if you had anything on you besides the gun. Not that you could kill anyone with this, it was too small.

You took hold of the cross, and started cutting letters into it. You fingers were beginning to feel numb, so you stopped for a moment and blew on them, to try and warm them up. Then you continued carving on the cross.

Once you had finished you slipped the knife back inside your boot, and knelt at the grave.

Looking at the words you had carved. 'Jake Adler' at least people would know who was buried here.

Looking at his name on the cross, tears started to fall from your eyes and run down your cheeks. It was bizarrely comforting, as the tears were warm, and your cheeks were so cold you could hardly feel them.

"I'm sorry daddy, but I wished you'd listened when I said she was no good" you whispered, in-between sobs.

You wrapped your arms around your body, clutching the blanket tighter in an attempt to keep warm.

You shivered again. Maybe this was supposed to be your fate, to freeze to death. At least you would be with your daddy.

"What the hell do you think your..." Arthur yelled at you, but the end of the sentence didn't come.

He could see what you were doing.

He walked over, and you felt something heavy draped across your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch your death out here," he whispered, "c'mon I better get you back,"

You looked up at him, tears still trickling down your cheek.

"I just wanted to say goodbye, and make sure people knew who was buried here," you sobbed.

Arthur nodded, as he helped you up. He put his arms around you. "go on sweetheart, cry it out." he whispered.

You buried your head in his chest, and let the tears flow. They flooded out like a dam had broken, your chest heaving.

It was only after you stopped, that you realised that Arthur hadn't come alone. Sitting on another horse, was Charles, gazing at you sympathetically.

"Charles, will you take her horse back for me, she's freezing and in no state to ride on her own." he suggested.

Charles nodded, and you watched as he unhitched Lily, and led her away.

Arthur lifted you onto his horse, then mounted up behind.

"I'm gonna try and keep you warm, until we get back," he explained, before wrapping his arm around you, and pulling you into his chest.

You felt the warmth of his chest on your back, the sudden heat causing you to shiver again. His horse suddenly moved forward, and you were galloping back towards Colter.

When you arrived back, you were surprised to see Susan rush out of one of the cabins.

"Is she ok, Arthur?" she asked, a look of concern on her face. So different from the look she had given you yesterday.

Then you saw Dutch, standing next to another, older man.

Before Arthur could reply, you saw Sadie, coming out one of the cabins.

"Typical!" she hissed, "Always have to be the little drama queen, don't ya!" she spat.

Arthur scowled, "she's just lost her daddy!" he spat.

Sadie rolled her eyes, "and I've just lost my husband!" she drawled. She looked at you and narrowed her eyes, then turned and walked back into the cabin.

"Hurry up and get her inside, Arthur," the older man said, as Arthur lifted you from the horse.

He didn't set you down, but carried you bridal style into the cabin.

"Put her in front of the fire, lets see if we cant warm her up. Miss Grimshaw, can you go and see if you can find her some dry clothes, and warmer ones if possible?" He suggested.

Arthur, lowered you onto the chair, which was still in front of the fire.

The older man, put his hand on your forehead. You flinched away from him.

"Its ok Blair, my name is Hosea. I think you may be running a bit of a fever." he soothed.

You looked at Hosea, he seemed friendly enough, you guessed he was another outlaw. Strange, you didn't expect a gang of outlaws to be like this.

"I...I'm just c...cold," you stuttered, your teeth chattering a little.

Hosea looked over at Arthur, "Can you go and get some of Pearson's stew, and something warm for her to drink, please Arthur?" he asked.

Arthur nodded, "she gonna be ok?"

Hosea nodded, "I think you found her just in time!"

Dutch walked into the cabin, he hadn't come straight in with the others.

"Is she ok Hosea?" he asked.

"She has a fever, I'm gonna get her warmed up and fed, then I'll put her to bed." he advised.

Dutch nodded. Then looked at you and sighed.

"That wasn't a very sensible thing to do, was it Blair?" he scolded.

You looked him in the eye, "I had to say goodbye to my daddy," you stated.

Dutch shook his head, "you could have frozen to death out there, you realise?"

You blinked, and pursed your lips, "guess that would have been for the best, least then I would be with people who loved me." you replied, your voice broke and a tear ran down your cheek.

Dutch walked over and crouched down in front of you. He wiped the tear away with his thumb.

"How old are you, Blair?" he asked.

"What's that go to do with anything," you huffed.

Dutch stared at you, waiting for an answer.

"Seventeen," you sighed,

Dutch hummed, "You got your whole life a head of ya, don't wish it away. Do you have any folks, anywhere?"

You shook your head, "mama...she died too," you're voice cracked, again.

He stood up. "Well, I know it ain't ideal, but you can stay with us, as long as you need to. Only no running out in the snow, with hardly any clothes on.

The cabin door opened, and Susan walked in, closely followed by Arthur.

"I found some heavier clothes, and some more blankets," Susan stated, as she lay them down on a table.

You watched as she walked over to Dutch, they turned away and walked across the other side of the room. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but Dutch was nodding at varying intervals. You wondered if they were talking about you, or talking about Sadie, or both. Right now you were too tired to care.

Arthur handed you the bowl of food, so you looked away, and concentrated on eating it. Every so often Hosea would feel your hands, or put his palm on your forehead.

After you'd finished the stew, Susan walked across.

"I'll put her to bed, Mr Matthews, I need to get her out of these wet things, and into the dry clothes." she added.

Hosea nodded, "I'll look in on her later."

Susan guided you to the bedroom, and sat you on the bed.

She pulled off your boots, and then started to remove your wet clothes. Replacing them with clean and dry ones. They weren't a great fit, but they were warmer than what you had been wearing. You were quite small for your age, so you guessed finding hand me down clothes that fit wouldn't be an easy task.

She didn't seem quite as sour as she had been the previous day. You weren't quite sure why. Maybe she just felt sorry for you. It didn't really matter you guessed.

Once you were dressed in the dry clothes, she lifted your legs up onto the bed, and covered you with the blankets. They were thicker than the one you had been given last night, and there were two of them. You hoped that someone else wasn't going with out.

She gently peeled a lock of your light brown hair, that had been plastered to your forehead, with the fever, and wrapped it behind your ear.

"You just get some rest honey, I'm sure everything will work out," she whispered.

"Thank you ma'am," you whispered.

She chuckled, "Susan will do fine," she said, as she headed for the door.

You closed your eyes, you had finally stopped shivering, so you gently drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

You weren't quite sure how long you’d slept for, but when you woke it was daylight. You were surprised to see Hosea, sitting on a chair, that had been put next to the bed.

“How are you feeling, my dear.” He asked.

You blinked, you were about to sit up, when you felt his hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just take it easy, no reason for you to be rushing around.”

You frowned, “really I feel fine, maybe a bit light headed,” you admitted.

He hummed. “well your fever finally broke last night. You could probably do with eating something.”

You gasped, “last night, how long have I been sleeping for.”

Hosea put a hand on one of yours, “You’ve been out of it, for a couple of days. When you were awake, you were rambling, saying some strange things, I guess it was the fever,” he added.

You bit your bottom lip. “What was I saying,” you asked, some of the colour draining from your face.

Hosea smiled, “Nothing important, I don't suppose. Don't worry about it. Just stay there and I’ll see if I can find you something to eat.”

He stood up, and walked out the bedroom door.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to fathom how you had got so sick. Probably being out in the cold hadn’t helped.

As you lay there, you heard a gentle tap on the door, then door opened slowly.

Arthur stood there, the door half open.

“You’re finally awake then?” he smirked.

You smiled, “thanks for saving me, Mr Morgan.”

He walked in the room, letting the door close behind him, and sat on the chair, which had been vacated by Hosea.

“Please, call me Arthur. You had us all worried for a bit there.” he admitted.

You sat up, leaning against the back of the bed.

You hummed, “I guess I got a bit colder than I thought.” You hesitated, furrowing your brow, “I still do the same again though,” you added.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think you were that stupid!” he scoffed.

“I ain’t!” you exclaimed. “It’s just I had to get this,” you pulled the silver locket out, from under your clothes, “and I had to say goodbye to my daddy.”

You looked down at the locket, not wanting to make eye contact with Arthur, or anyone for that matter. Even talking about your daddy, still hurt right now.

“What is it?” he asked.

You looked up. “Its a locket, my mama and daddy gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. My mama died shortly after, then my daddy...” you didn't finish the sentence. You didn't even want to think about the day, your daddy married that woman.

You put the locket, back inside you clothes. “Anyhow, its the only thing I have now.” you added.

Arthur nodded, “well, good news is we’ll be getting off this mountain pretty soon.”

You looked up, startled. “Where are you going?”

Arthur shrugged, “Not sure yet, think Hosea has a few ideas.” He smiled, “Don’t worry, Dutch meant what he said, you can stay with us for as long as you need to.”

You frowned, “I guess that goes for Sadie too?”

Arthur nodded, then chuckled. “What is it with you two, anyway?”

You sighed and squeezed your eyes closed. “Its complicated. I guess we’ll just have to avoid each other, until one or other of us decides to move on.”

Arthur stood up, and headed to the door, “or maybe you could just let bygones be bygones. Not a lot of point holding a grudge.”

“That ain't gonna happen,” you hissed.

Arthur shook his head, and left the room.

You stared at the door. You could never tell him, or anyone for that matter why the two of you hated each other so much.

Even if you told them, they would never believe you. It was best to bury it, and bury it deep.

If Sadie decided to stay with them, you’d find somewhere else to go. Knowing Sadie, she’d probably try and hook up with one of the men, Dutch probably. He had all the money, all the power. If that happened, you’d get out. Probably even before that happened.

The door opened, and Hosea stood there. A bowl of food in his hand.

“You feel ready for some food?” he asked, hopefully.

You nodded, pushing the conversation you had with Arthur to the back of your mind.

“Once you’ve eaten, we’ll get you out of bed, and on your feet. Hopefully, if everything goes according to plan, we’ll be leaving this afternoon.”

You raised your eyebrows, “where?” You asked.

Hosea smiled, “A place called The Heartlands. There's a really nice spot for our camp, and quite close to a town.” he rubbed his hands together, “and warm. The sooner I get off this mountain, the happier I’ll be,” he added.

You started to eat the food, that Hosea had brought. Once again, you only realised how hungry you were, when the first spoonful hit your stomach. You also began to realise, how little you’d eaten since the men had killed your father.

Once you had finished the food, you pulled back the blankets and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

“Now remember, to take things steady,” Hosea warned, “you haven't been on your feet for days!”

He helped you on with your boots, and you dropped off the side of the bed. You felt a bit weak, but supported by Hosea, you walked through into the room adjoining the bedroom.

Hosea picked up a coat, that had been draped over the back of the chair, near the fire place. You recognised it as the one that Arthur had draped round your shoulders, when he had found you at the ranch.

“Here, put this on,” he advised, “You’ll need it whilst we travel. I’ll go and see if there are a spare pair of gloves you can use. In the meantime, just sit by the fire.”

You put the coat on, it was quite a good fit, and warm. You sat down on the chair, by the fire, and looked over your shoulder, as Hosea left the cabin.

You weren’t quite sure how long, you sat there, but when the door opened, Hosea came back in with some gloves.

“We’ll be leaving shortly, come on outside. You can ride with me and Arthur,” he said, smiling.

You guessed he would be glad to be leaving the mountain too.

You put on the gloves, and stood up. Hosea offered his arm, which you gladly took, as you walked outside the cabin.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t a convoy of five wagons, which is what you saw.

You looked towards the front wagon, to see Sadie standing there, looking at you, sneering.

You gripped Hosea’s arm a little tighter, as he started to walk with you towards the last wagon.

Dutch looked towards Sadie, then looked back at you.

“Blair, good to see you back on your feet, my dear,” he beamed, “come along, ride with me.”

Dutch climbed up onto the wagon, and held out his hand. Letting go of Hosea’s arm, you walked towards the wagon. You grabbed Dutch’s hand, and he pulled you up onto the wagon.

You had to admit, the man scared you a little, but seeing at the look on Sadie’s face, sitting on the wagon next to Dutch, was more than worth it. If she’d had a gun, she would have shot you on the spot.

She had to make do with riding with the other women.

The wagon train, slowly started to move.

Dutch looked at you and smiled, “have you ever driven a wagon, Blair?” he asked.

You looked at him, and nodded. You felt your heart beating faster, you weren't quite sure why.

Dutch passed you the reins, “Here you are then, you can drive,” he smirked.

You gripped them tightly, trying to focus on the trail ahead.

Dutch pulled a cigar out of his pocket, and struck a match on the bottom of his boot, he lit the cigar, sucking on it until the tip glowed.

“Are you scared of me Blair?” he asked, blowing blue smoke into the air.

You swallowed, “a little,” you replied, taking your eyes of the trail, for a split second and glancing at him.

Dutch hummed, “you see Blair, sometimes good people, do bad things.”

You bit your lip, “But bad people do bad things too,” you commented.

Dutch looked at you, “I would hope you haven't come across any bad people, at your young age, Blair!” He exclaimed.

You sighed, “actually I have.”

Dutch put his hand on your thigh, and squeezed it gently. You stiffened, and looked at him.

“I hope you don't consider me to be a bad person, Blair,” he asked.

“N..no, at least I...don’t think so” you stammered.

“Good,” he said, “because I hope we can be friends, good friends.”

You nodded, quickly.

Dutch released the grip on your leg, and gently patted it.

“and remember, its Dutch. No need for formalities here, my dear.”

You focussed back on the trail.

“So tell me Blair, about these bad people,” Dutch queried.

You swallowed looking straight ahead, “I’d rather forget,” you replied.

Dutch chuckled, “ahh you don't quite trust me yet, do you?”

You glanced at him, “do you trust me?”

Dutch laughed, a deep baritone laugh, “I knew you weren’t stupid, I didn't realise you were quite so clever. I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you.”

You started to feel a little more confident.

“Sometimes,” you began, “when people let you down, its hard to know who to trust.”

Dutch looked at you, nodding his head.

“Well, I can promise you one thing Blair, stick with me and I’ll never let you down.”

You narrowed your eyes, and looked at the Outlaw sitting beside you. All these people seemed to be following him, maybe he was telling truth. You guessed you would find out.


	4. Chapter 4

The trip down the mountain, was relatively uneventful. Dutch called out to two of his men, who you hadn't seen before to scout ahead. One was about the same age as Arthur, and blonde. The other one was much younger, and dark skinned. They were called Micah and Lenny. You thought you would try to remember their names.

As you were crossing the River, the wagon that Arthur and Hosea were on lost a wheel. You were relieved it wasn't the one that you were driving. You didn't think Dutch would be too pleased if you'd managed to break the wagon.

Arthur and Hosea stopped to fix it, and yelled that they would catch up. You noticed that Charles went to help. Whenever you had seen Charles, he had always been with Arthur. You wondered if they were like best friends or something. You were trying to see how everyone fitted into the gang, but it seemed a bit confusing at times. The only thing you did know, was that Dutch was the leader.

You'd heard him call Arthur, son a few times. You didn't think they were related, they looked nothing like each other. You kind of wanted to ask Dutch about that, but you weren't sure that you should, so decided to stay silent.

The place where the gang decided to make their camp, was very pretty, and very green. You could still see the mountains in the distance, from the cliff top you could see the river. But the roadway, was surrounded by trees, with a half fallen tree, making an archway, where the track led up to the main camp.

As soon as the convoy of wagons arrived, they set to work setting up the camp, with a variety of different tents.

Dutch's was the largest, then Arthur's. Susan seemed to be organizing everyone, with the help of Mr Pearson, who was the camp cook. You now understood why they had called it Pearson's stew. He had his own wagon, and a campfire in the centre of camp where he put the stew each day.

Hosea and Arthur arrived, when a lot of the tents had been setup. Hosea didn't seem very happy about being here, but Dutch was enthusiastic. You wondered if that's why everyone followed him, because of his enthusiasm. No one seemed to question him overly much, except perhaps for Hosea.

Dutch called everyone over, to his tent, and started to make a speech, about everyone pulling their weight. You stood and watched. You were a little worried. What could you do. You could read and write, but you'd never really had a job, apart from helping your daddy around the ranch. You were quite good with horses. You used to catch wild ones, then your daddy would sell them on, once they were tame enough.

Once Dutch had finished his speech, he stood there talking to Hosea.

You walked over, to the two men.

"I'm just wondering what I can do?" you asked, "If I'm staying I'll need to do something!" you added.

Hosea, was just about to speak, when you heard a voice behind you. One that you immediately recognized.

"You'll do what you usually do, you lazy little bitch. That's jack shit, and cause trouble!" Sadie hissed.

You spun around and glared at her.

"At least I don't hurt anyone, or put them in an early grave," you spat.

"Why, you little bitch, I'm gonna show you, once and for all!" she yelled.

You felt her balled fist collide with your face. Sending you flying backwards. Blood started to run from your nose.

Before she had a chance to grab you, and hit you again, she was grabbed by someone you didn't recognize, and they held her back.

Dutch switched his gaze between the pair of you, glaring.

"Enough!" he yelled. "I won't have fighting in my camp. If you can't get over your differences one of you will have to leave!"

You wiped the blood from your nose, and stood up.

"Fine, I'll leave now, good luck with her," you hissed.

You turned and headed towards the track that led out of the camp.

"Blair, come back here!" you heard Dutch yell after you.

You threw your hands in the air, and carried on walking.

You had no idea where you would go. You only knew you had to put some distance between yourself and Sadie. You had no money, but at least you had some self-respect.

As you walked down the track, you heard footsteps running after you, then you felt a hand on your

shoulder.

"Please wait, Blair." Arthur begged.

You stopped, and turned your head to look at him.

He looked a little surprised. You wondered if he had expected you to be crying, but you weren't. The

last person you were going to cry over was Sadie Adler.

"You won't last five minutes out there with no money, no weapon. Where will you go." he asked, concern on his face.

You shrugged, "I can't stay here. Besides, I lasted three days on the mountain, in the middle of nowhere."

Arthur sighed, "at least take your horse, and this," he handed you a gun. You recognized it immediately. It was the same one your father had handed to you, when you were at the ranch.

You took the gun, and shoved it in your belt.

"Thanks Arthur, but keep the horse. I'll find me another one." you concluded.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, "look, take this," he handed you some money, "Promise me you'll go to Valentine, and stay in the hotel tonight. I'll meet you there in the morning." he pleaded.

You rolled your eyes, "ain't nothing gonna change by tomorrow. I'm still gonna hate her, and she's still gonna want to kill me. She can offer more to your gang than I can. She can shoot, plus she don't mind killin' people."

Arthur frowned, then whistled. Lily quickly came running over.

"Take your horse. I'm gonna speak with Dutch." he added. "Besides, I know you can shoot, you tried to shoot me and Charles!"

You smiled, "I know, but I had no intention of killing ya, I just was hoping to frighten you off."

Arthur shook his head and smiled at you, as he helped you onto Lily.

"Just be careful, and try to stay out of trouble, at least for tonight." he pleaded.

You nodded, and pushed Lily into a trot.

Leaving the camp, you headed towards Valentine.

Valentine was a pleasant little town, you thought. It had everything you might need. A general store,

a gunsmith, a couple of saloons and a hotel.

You looked at the money that Arthur had given you, and you headed to the hotel. You asked for a room, and decided to have a bath as well.

You hadn't had a bath for weeks. This was a luxury, so you made the most of it. Once you'd

finished, you headed to the hotel room, and locked the door. The sun was beginning to set, so you decided to go to bed.

You'd decided you would meet Arthur in the morning. You knew nothing would have changed, but you owed him that much.

You pulled off your boots, put the gun on the bedside table, and lay down on the bed.

You'd only closed your eyes for a few moments, when you heard a knock on the door.

You opened your eyes, and reached for your gun.

"Who's there," you called out, gripping your gun tightly.

"Its Dutch, open the door."

You stood up

"What do you want?" you shouted at the door.

"Blair, open the door, or do you want me to break it down," he shouted.

You stood there not moving. Your heart pounding in your chest.

"Please just leave," you pleaded.

There was a crash, as the door flew open, wood splintering as the lock broke.

You pointed the gun at him hands shaking.

He looked at the gun in your hand, and walked towards you. He grabbed the gun and pulled it from your hand.

"We both know you're not going to shoot me!" he exclaimed.

He threw the gun on the bed and grabbed tour hands. They were both still trembling.

Dutch looked you in the eye.

"It's OK, Blair. Just come and sit down," he soothed.

He guided you to the bed, and you sat down. Dutch sat down next to you. You were surprised he wasn't angry. After all you had just pointed a gun at him.

"I... I'm sorry," you stuttered.

"What exactly are you sorry for? The scene back at camp, walking out, ignoring me, or pointing a gun at me?"

He asked, frowning.

You look at the floor, "Everything." You sighed, "I can't come back, it'll only cause more trouble. Besides, I make a rubbish outlaw."

Dutch shook his head, "of course you're coming back. You wouldn't last five minutes out here by yourself."

Dutch let go of your hands, and put his fingers under your chin, gently tilting it up, forcing you to look at him.

"Listen to me Blair, I promised you I would never let you down and I meant it." he whispered.

"But Sadie..." You started to protest, but Dutch hushed you, as he stood up.

"You let me worry about Mrs Adler, you're too young and innocent to be running around on your own. People around here would eat you alive!" He exclaimed.

"I... She..." You sighed.

"What?" he asked tersely, clearly becoming impatient.

"Never mind," you mumbled.

Dutch shook his head, "I don't know what's gone on between you and Mrs Adler. Maybe one day you'll trust me enough to tell me. But rest assured Blair, I won't let her lay another finger on you. Now get your boots on, we need to get back before it gets dark."

You nodded and pulled on your boots, then reached over and put your fathers gun back in your belt.

You still weren't convinced that given the opportunity Sadie wouldn't have another go. But right now your options were pretty limited.

Dutch stood up and walked over to the door, holding it open for you. As you walked through, you felt his hand rest on your shoulder.

Whatever happened, you didn't think you were going to be able to leave this gang of outlaws.


	5. Chapter 5

You didn't say much on the ride back to camp. Dutch kept glancing at you. Probably just checking you weren't about to try to make a bit for freedom. Not much point really. By the look of Dutch’s horse, he would out run you easily. It didn't alter the fact, that you felt like a prisoner. Maybe he was thinking of your welfare, but you were sure if you’d put your foot down, you would have found yourself tied to the back of a horse again.

You’d noticed a young lad, tied to a tree. If you tried to leave again, you figured you might end up with the same fate.

For now, you’d stay put. Avoid Sadie, and try to keep your head down.

When you arrived back, you dismounted Lily and hitched her. Before you had a chance to walk off, Dutch was there, his hand on your shoulder, guiding you where he wanted you to go.

Its something you had noticed about this gang, they were really touchy, feely. Your daddy had never been like that. He’d just tell you to go somewhere, and leave you to it.

You supposed that was something else you would have to get used to. Or more likely put up with, until you could make another bid for freedom.

As you walked into the centre of the camp, Susan came rushing over.

“Are you OK, Blair?” she asked.

Dutch let go of your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you remarked.

Susan's hands, clamped on your face, and her other hand pressed your nose.

You winced, slightly. But wasn’t able to pull away.

Susan hummed, “I think it’s just bruised, at least its not broken. Now sit down, and I’ll get you some stew, then you can get some rest. I set you up a tent next to Dutch and Arthur.”

You just stared at her, as she kept talking. When you first laid eyes on her, she didn't strike you as the maternal type, but right now she was mothering you. You couldn't quite understand why. A bit like when Arthur brought you down off the mountain.

You glanced around the camp, there were several people there you hadn’t seen before. Not really surprising, considering you had spent most of the time in the little cabin in the mountains.

You saw Arthur wandering across camp towards you, he sat at the table.

“You came back then,” he smirked.

“I didn’t have much choice,” you scowled. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone to the hotel in Valentine,” you grumbled.

“We’re only lookin’ out for ya,” Arthur remarked.

“Well I can look out for myself,” you huffed.

Arthur chuckled, “you get a fever, then you nearly get your nose broke. Seems to me you need all the lookin’ after you can get.”

you rolled your eyes, “ain't my fault if Sadie can't keep her fists to herself.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, “is if you’re bad mouthing her!”

You narrowed your eyes, “It ain't bad mouthing, if it's the truth,” you retorted.

Arthur shrugged, “well one of ya ain't speakin’ the truth.”

“Fine!” you stood up, and walked away. You headed towards the edge of the cliff.

Susan called over to you, “Blair, I’ve got your food!”

You carried on walking, “I ain’t hungry!” you snarled.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, your legs dangling over the edge. The one person who you thought might be your friend, had already betrayed you. Not really surprising. Everyone always believed Sadie. Even your father, and look where that got him. It wouldn’t be long, she’d get the whole the camp to believe her side of the story, and that would be it. At least then you could leave, they’d probably kick you out. After all, that was what you wanted wasn’t it. You didn't want to be an outlaw.

You heard footsteps behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the person who had pulled Sadie off of you earlier. You didn't know who he was.

“You shouldn’t sit so close to the edge, chica, you might fall,” he suggested.

You shrugged, “it’s only a matter of time, I’ll either fall, or I’ll be pushed.”

He grinned, “Ahh the woman who tried to break your nose!”

You nodded, “thank you, I guess it would have been more than my nose, if you hadn’t pulled her off.”

He chuckled, “my pleasure, chica. I’m Javier by the way, wouldn't want her to mess up your pretty face.”

You felt your face flush, “Blair,” you replied.

Javier held out his hand, “come on Blair, lets not tempt fate eh.”

You took Javier’s hand, and stood up.

As soon as you were standing, he let go of your hand, and instead offered you and arm.

“It’s getting late, let me at least escort you back to your tent.” he offered.

You smiled and took his arm, “thank you, Javier, I guess I need all the friends I can get.”

“So?” Javier started, “why does she hate you so much?”

You sighed, “it’s a long story, Javier. I’ve already been accused of bad mouthing her, and lying. So I guess it’s best not to say anything!”

Javier nodded, “that's very wise chica, but if you ever want to talk...”

You smiled, “thank you, Javier. I’ll keep in mind your offer.”

You reached your tent, and Javier let go of your arm, he took your hand, and kissed it.

“Goodnight chica, sleep well.”

You felt your face flush, and quickly escaped into your tent.

There was a lantern that had been lit, and it looked like Susan had left the stew she had got for you earlier. You even had a proper bed in your tent, rather than a bedroll.

You pulled off your boots, and pulled the gun from your belt, and put it on the table. It was pointless carrying it around, when you were too afraid to shoot it.

You picked up the bowl and ate the stew. You had lied when you said you weren’t hungry. You guessed Susan had known that. It would have been better warm, but at least it filled you up.

You put the bowl on the table and climbed into bed, and pulled the blanket over you.

You sighed and stared at the canvas which was now your home. Well at least for now.

You eventually felt tired enough to close your eyes, and you drifted off to sleep.

You woke in the morning, to sounds around the camp. You were still feeling slightly sorry for yourself. For the second time in your life you found yourself somewhere, you didn't really want to be. The first time it was in the mountain, your fathers idea of a fresh start, and now here. A virtual prisoner, because people thought they knew what was best for you.

You had however figured, that you would now have to start seeing which people fell into which camps. Yours or Sadie's.

Currently, you figured you could rely on Dutch, and Javier. Arthur, who you thought was a friend, seemed firmly to be in Sadie's camp. Susan, who had originally sided with Sadie, seemed to be more on your side. Of course this could all change. Right now you had to decide who you could trust. You thought you could trust Arthur, but it seems you were wrong on that score.

You pulled on your boots, and looked at the gun. You decided to put it in your belt. If Sadie was going to try anything then you’d at least have the gun. Whether you could actually use it was a different thing.

You picked up the empty plate. The least you could do was wash it up.

You pulled back the flap of the tent, and headed out. You glanced around, looking for where you might be able to wash dish, when you heard your name being called.

“Blair, come over here?” Dutch called out.

You walked towards his tent where he was standing.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Fine, thank you,” you replied, “I was just looking for somewhere to wash this,” you added, lifting the dirty food bowl.

“Oh don’t worry about that, just leave it on the table, one of the women will clean it up.” Dutch articulated.

You frowned, “I’m a woman, I want to help around here somehow.”

Dutch chuckled, “Indeed you are Blair, but I have much more important work for you to do!”

You tilted your head, wondering what he had in mind for you.

“Go and get mounted up, Arthur is waiting for you!” Dutch exclaimed.

You put the dish on the table, and headed for the horses, Arthur was the last person you wanted to see this morning.

Arthur was standing by his horse.

“Dutch told me to find you, to do something,” you huffed.

Arthur nodded, “we’re meeting Hosea, up at Emerald Ranch.”

You mounted Lily, and nodded.

Arthur frowned, “you OK?” he asked.

You nodded, “fine,” you mumbled.

Arthur mounted his horse, and you rode down the track.

“You don’t sound fine,” he questioned.

You sighed, “Well, I am,” you retorted.

You rode on in silence. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to Arthur. The only plus side to this trip, is that you would be meeting up with Hosea.

You were almost at Emerald ranch, when Arthur stopped his horse, and pulled on your reins to stop Lily.

You glared at him.

“What's your problem today, Blair?” he growled.

“I ain’t got a problem Arthur, I’m just doing as I’m told.” you retorted.

“You ain't said more than two words to me since we left.” he remarked.

You shrugged, “Didn't know I had to!”

Arthur shook his head, “you still sulking, because of what happened yesterday?”

You stared at him, “Oh what part, the fact that you sent Dutch after me to bring me back, or the fact that you called me a liar?” you hissed.

Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head. He let go of your reins and kicked his horse on.

“C’mon,” he growled, “Hosea’ll be waiting.”

You reached Emerald Ranch and found Hosea talking to a strange looking fella called Seamus.

You weren't sure what was going on, but your last comment to Arthur, seemed to have put him in a particularly sour mood.

As you both walked over Hosea looked at the other man

“I’ll tell you what, Seamus, let us prove ourselves.” Hosea suggested.

Arthur laughed, “what to this clown!”

Seamus was about to walk away, but Hosea managed to smooth the waters. You didn’t here exactly what was said, but Hosea and Arthur walked back to the horses.

“C’mon Blair,” Hosea said smiling, “We’ve got to go and collect something.”

You mounted Lily, “What do you mean, collect?” you queried.

Arthur and Hosea chuckled, “We’re just going to collect a stagecoach, Dutch was pretty impressed with your driving skills.” Hosea smirked.

You nodded, You were pretty sure that this wasn’t entirely legal, but as long as there was no killing involved you guessed it would be OK.

When you got to the farmhouse, Hosea explained it wasn’t actually stealing, because you couldn't steal something which had already been stolen.

Arthur, snuck into the house, and you snuck into the barn, where the stagecoach was. Hosea, was keeping the farmer, and his farm hands busy. Spinning some sort of yarn about health cures. You couldn't help but snigger. The man was so clever.

After a few minutes, Arthur crept into the barn.

“Just wait until Hosea has finished, then we’ll pick him up on the way out,” he smirked.

Just listening to Hosea, seemed to have improved Arthur's mood. After a few minutes, you heard Hosea say goodbye, and the farmer and his workers headed off.

You snapped the reins gently, your heart was pounding, as the adrenaline rush kicked in. The stagecoach moved off, then you brought it to a halt, a little way from the house. Hosea hopped on, the farmer, and his workers none the wiser.

Hosea smiled at you, “Congratulations, Blair. You’ve just done your first job! Now we just need to get this back to Seamus.”

You carried on driving the stagecoach, until you were back at emerald ranch, then drove it into the barn. Seamus gave Hosea some money, and Arthur passed over what he had stolen from the house.

There was also some Jewellery which Arthur had lifted, which Seamus gave him some money for.

Hosea then, split the money. Half for the camp, the other half split between the three of you.

You ended up with fifty dollars. You stared at the cash in disbelief.

Hosea looked at you and chuckled. “Welcome to the world of being an outlaw, Blair.”

You looked at him, not sure whether to smile or not. Your father would struggle to make this much in a month

You grinned at Hosea, perhaps being an outlaw wasn't so bad after all.


	6. Chapter 6

The three of you left the Emerald Ranch in high spirits. You because of the money you'd just earned, and Arthur and Hosea, because of the job going smoothly, and making a good contact with Seamus.

Your thoughts then turned to your daddy. Despite what Hosea had said, you realised that what you had just done was illegal. You also knew your daddy would have been horrified at the thought.

Hosea noticed you had become quiet.

"Is everything alright, Blair. You're a bit quiet?" Hosea asked, as you rode along.

You sighed, "just thinking about my daddy, is all." you replied, quietly.

"Guess your daddy wouldn't have approved of what we did today," Arthur scoffed.

Hosea frowned at Arthur. "Not everyone was born into the outlaw life, Arthur!"

You looked at Hosea, "born? What do you mean?" you queried.

Hosea chuckled, "most of the people back at camp, came to us younger than you. Lost their parents, or were escaping from some sort of trouble. John, for example, he was only twelve and about to be hung." His face became more serious, "lots of kids aren't as lucky as you, Blair."

"I don't feel that lucky, right now." you admitted, pouting slightly.

"Sorry Blair, that was a poor choice of words," Hosea apologised, "but things could be a lot worse!" he added.

You nodded, you supposed he was right, you could still be freezing to death on the mountain for a start.

"So what did your daddy do, before he came to the Grizzlies?" Arthur asked, attempting to change the subject.

"He raised horses," you smiled, and patted Lily, "I used to help him. Sometimes, we would go and catch wild ones." you added.

Arthur chuckled, and pointed to a group of horses in the distance, "like those?"

You looked in the direction where Arthur was pointing, and saw a herd of wild horses.

"Yeah," you smiled, just like those.

You looked across at the horses, what you wouldn't give to be back on the ranch, catching and breaking horses, with your daddy.

Hosea's voice broke into your thoughts.

"So how come your daddy brought you to the mountains?" Hosea asked, confusion in his voice.

"They wanted a fresh start," you scoffed.

"Ahh your daddy and Sadie!" Hosea concluded.

"Sadie did!" you hissed, your lip curling slightly.

Hosea looked at your expression, and decided to leave it there.

"C'mon, let's get back, Dutch'll wanna know how you got on."

You pushed Lily on, and followed the two men, glancing over your shoulder every so often, at the wild horses.

As the three of you rode up the track, you heard Javier.

"Who's there!" he yelled.

"Arthur, Hosea and Blair, coming in!" Arthur yelled.

As you passed, Javier winked at you, so you smiled back, and waved.

Arthur looked at you and frowned.

"What!" you shrugged, "I'm just bein' friendly!"

Once the three of you had dismounted, Hosea headed towards Dutch's tent. You were about to follow him, when Arthur grabbed your shoulder.

"We'll be along in a minute, Hosea!" Arthur yelled.

Arthur spun you round, and grabbed your other shoulder. He pushed you against a tree.

"What the hell are you playing at?" You hissed.

Arthur scowled, "I could ask you the same!"

You tried to push him away, but he held you fast.

"What's going on with you and Javier?" he demanded.

"Arthur!" you squealed, "let me go, you're hurting me!"

Arthur licked his lips, "I asked you a question, Blair?"

You squirmed, but his grip only became tighter.

"He walked me back to my tent last night, after you called me a liar," you hissed, "now let me go!"

Arthur released his grip slightly, but still held you against the tree, staring at you.

He grabbed your chin, with his right hand, still pinning you to the tree with his left. You tried to pull your head away, but once again, his grip was too strong.

"Now you listen to me, Blair. You're just a kid, but you're a pretty little thing. The men round here, won't think twice about taking advantage of you," he warned.

You swallowed hard, feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"What about you Arthur, will you try and take advantage of me too?" you asked, your voice cracking.

Arthur released his grip from your chin, and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand.

You felt the stubble on his chin, scratch your other cheek.

"I'm trying very hard not to, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear.

You felt your face heating up, you knew without looking how red it was.

Arthur let you go, still staring at you, and took a step back. "You better go talk to Dutch."

You almost ran across the camp, your heart pumping violently in your chest. You wanted to look back, to see if Arthur was still there, but you didn't dare.

Just before you reached Dutch's tent, you slowed down, took a deep breath and composed yourself.

Dutch had warned you last night about being eaten alive in Valentine, he didn't mention about being eaten alive here.

When you reached Dutch's tent, both the back and the front flaps, were open. Hosea stood in the tent, talking to Dutch.

When they saw you approach, they stopped talking.

"Hosea tells me you did very well today, Blair." Dutch enthused.

You shoved your hands in your pockets, and looked at the floor, "thanks," you mumbled.

Dutch stood up and walked towards you. He put his hand gently on your shoulder. Much more gently than Arthur had just done. He put his finger under your chin, and gently tilted your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him.

"Is everything ok? Because I'm really proud of what you did today." He beamed.

You bit your bottom lip.

"Yes, it's just been a bit..." You hesitated.

Dutch frowned, "a bit what?"

"A bit scary, and different to what I'm used to," you finished. But you weren't thinking of the stagecoach theft. You were thinking of Arthur. You felt that the description applied to both.

Dutch released your chin, and chuckled, "ahh the comedown after the adrenaline rush, you'll soon get used to it!"

Hosea smiled at you, "C'mon Blair, let's go and grab some food, that always helps."

You followed Hosea over towards where the stew was bubbling away in the pot. You both grabbed a bowl, and sat down at the table.

"Ya know," Hosea said, looking at the gun tucked into your belt. "You really ought to get a holster for that, and maybe learn how to shoot it properly." he added.

You shrugged, swirling the stew around in the bowl, "I'm not even sure why I'm wearing it, I can't bring myself to shoot anyone." you mumbled, "doesn't make me much of an outlaw, does it?" you scoffed.

Hosea chuckled, "I'll have a word with Arthur, maybe get him to take you out and give you a few lessons."

You coughed, the thought of being alone with Arthur again, nearly made you choke on your stew.

Hosea rolled his eyes, "or maybe we better teach you to chew your food first."

He reached over into a crate, and pulled out a couple of bottles of beer. He opened one and passed it to you.

"If you're old enough to steal a stage, then you're old enough to have a beer," he chuckled.

You quickly took a couple of swallows, then carried on eating. Just as well Hosea didn't realise that it was the thought of being alone with Arthur that nearly made you choke.

You were hoping, that Hosea would forget about his idea of Arthur teaching you to shoot. You decided to try and make yourself scarce. Now not only did you have to try to avoid Sadie, but you had to try to avoid Arthur as well.

As you wandered around the camp, you saw a young boy tied to a tree. It looked scared for his life.

You looked him up and down.

"What did you do, to get tied to a tree?" you asked.

"Please miss," he begged. "I ain't done nothing."

You thought about how you had been tied up and knocked out, when you were in the mountains. You daren't untie him though, just in case.

"What's your name?" you asked him.

"It's Keiran, Miss. Please, could I just have a drink of water? I ain't had nothin' for days!"

You walked over and ladled some water into a cup, then walked back and gave him a drink.

"What the hell d'ya think you're doin'!" Arthur yelled at you.

You spun around, to see him glaring at you.

"What's it look like, I'm giving him a drink. He can't help himself, seeing as he's tied to a tree," you scoffed.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Dutch's orders. He ain't to have nothin'."

You looked at Arthur, then looked at the boy. He now looked even more terrified, if that were possible.

"Why? What did he do?" you asked.

To be honest, the boy didn't look like he was capable of much.

Arthur chuckled, "you don't know who he is, do ya?"

You looked at Arthur and shook your head, "No, should I?"

"I guess not, so I'll tell you. He's an O'Driscoll!" Arthur sneered.

"I ain't an O'Driscoll," Keiran whined, "I keep tellin' ya!"

You frowned, "an O'Driscoll? What's so special about O'Driscolls?" you asked.

Arthur looked at Kieran, then at you. "Well, I don't suppose you've heard of 'em Blair. There ain't nothing special about 'em. They're just lowlife scum. In fact, they're the lowlife scum that killed your daddy."

You stared at Arthur, then stared at Kieran. You felt the anger welling up inside you. You strode over to where Keiran was tied, and balling your hands into fists, you punched him hard in the face, with your right hand. You followed it up with your left hand. Blood started to erupt from his nose, it stained your knuckles, but you didn't care, as you hit him over and over again.

"You fucking bastard, you killed my daddy, I'm gonna kill you" you screamed.

You weren't sure how many times you'd hit him, or screamed at him, but he was whimpering and crying. You felt Arthur wrap his arms around you, pulling you away and pinning your arms to your side.

You struggled to get away so you could finish the job that you started. But Arthur's grip was too strong. The more Arthur restrained you the angrier you seemed to get.

"Let me go," you growled, "I'm gonna kill him!"

Arthur held you tightly, "Easy, Blair, just take it easy," he whispered in your ear.

His words did nothing to ease your anger, "you fucking bastard, I'm gonna kill ya." you spat, still struggling to get away from Arthur, your eyes glued to Kieran.

Dutch walked over, and glared at Kieran.

"Now boy, would be a good time to start talkin', or I'll get Arthur here, to let her loose. Rumour has it, she ain't averse to shootin' people when she's angry, you can ask Arthur yourself, she shot at him when we were up in the mountains!" Dutch sneered.

"Ok, Ok, I'll tell you everything I know," Kieran sobbed, "just don't let her kill me!" he begged.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur carried on holding you fast, whilst Dutch and Bill started interrogating the trembling Kieran.

You kept screaming at Kieran, then your anger turned towards Arthur.

"Let me go, you son of a bitch," you screamed struggling against his grip.

When that didn't work you focussed your anger back on Kieran.

"You murdering little bastard, when I get hold of ya, I'm gonna gut you like the pig that you are," you screamed.

Nothing that Arthur said, could calm you down. You had a red mist in front of you, and you were enraged.

Dutch sighed, and walked away from Kieran, and stood in front of you.

"Blair?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm gonna rip your balls off and make you eat em you evil bastard," you screamed.

"Blair!," Dutch shouted.

When he got no response, he grabbed your face with his hands.

"Blair! Look at me. Now!" he growled.

Your eyes snapped to his face, which was only a few inches from yours.

You gasped, your heart pounding. You found yourself struggling for breath as the red mist slowly dissipated.

"They... They killed... killed my daddy," you gasped.

"Blair, honey, just breath. Calm down. They're gonna pay, but we need Kieran for the information." Dutch soothed.

You closed your eyes, and stopped struggling. Your breath coming in short, rapid gasps. Slowly your breathing became more even.

"Good," Dutch praised, "that's better, now Arthur is gonna take you over there, so you can sit down."

Dutch looked at Arthur, "keep an eye on her, until we've finished with the boy."

Dutch released his grip on your face. As he did, Arthur turned you away, so you couldn't look at Kieran.

"Are you calm enough, for me to let you go?" Arthur whispered, in your ear.

You nodded. You felt Arthur release his grip, but as soon as he did, you felt his hand go to the back of your neck. The grip wasn't hard, but strong enough so you couldn't turn your head to look behind you.

"Now just relax," Arthur soothed, as he guided you towards the table.

You sat down, and took a deep breath. You felt Arthur remove his hand from the back of your neck.

You rested your elbows on the table, and buried your face in your hands.

"Mary-Beth!" Arthur called across to one of the tents. You lifted your head to see a young woman come over.

"Mary-Beth, can you go and get Blair a cup of water, Please," he asked.

Mary-Beth nodded, and walked over the water butt.

After a few minutes she came back, and sat opposite you at the table, sliding the cup of water across.

"Here you are," she offered, "I don't think we've met yet, I'm Mary-Beth."

You took the cup, "Thank you," you sighed.

Mary-Beth smiled, "you seem quite nice, not at all like Sadie..."

She didn't finish the sentence as Arthur shushed her.

You took a sip of the water, and half smiled, "don't worry Arthur, I'm more than aware that Sadie has probably told everyone I'm an awful person."

Mary-Beth blushed, "maybe we can be friends," she offered.

You rolled your eyes, "sure, why not."

Mary-Beth smiled, "I better get back to work, before Miss Grimshaw comes looking."

Arthur smiled at her, "Thanks Mary-Beth."

You closed your eyes.

"I would have killed him," you stated. "With my bare hands. I would have punched him to death, if you hadn't stopped me." You opened your eyes, and looked at Arthur.

Arthur nodded, "yes, Blair, I believe you would have."

You buried your face in your hands again, "that means I'm no better than them!"

"Who?" Arthur asked.

You sighed, "the O'Driscolls. I'm no better than the O'Driscolls, who killed my daddy."

"Don't you ever compare yourself to those goddamn O'Driscolls!" Dutch growled.

You lifted your head, to see Dutch standing there, in front of you. You hadn't heard him walk over.

Dutch touched your cheek, "You ain't nothing like 'em, Blair. I told you that sometimes good people do bad things, well killing an O'Driscoll is not a bad thing. They are evil scum and deserve to be put down!"

You blinked, "even Kieran." you asked.

Dutch removed his hand from your cheek, and rubbed his chin.

"We'll see about Keiran. He's just given us some information. If it's true, then you'll be glad you didn't kill him."

Arthur stood up, "What did he give you?" he asked.

"The location of a cabin, Colm might be there, and several O'Driscolls." Dutch replied.

He glanced at you, then looked back at Arthur.

"I want you to go there, with Bill and John, and take Blair with you."

"What!" Arthur exclaimed, "she's not ready to take on a gang of O'Driscolls!"

"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't." Dutch hesitated, "But who better than you, to keep her safe," he concluded.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. "C'mon Blair, but you better do exactly as I tell ya."

You stood up and followed Arthur to the horses, where Bill and John were already waiting.

"She ain't coming, is she?" John asked, looking at Arthur.

Arthur nodded, "Yeah, she is. Dutch's orders."

John looked at you and rolled his eyes.

On another day, you would have come back with some smart arsed remark. But right now all you could think about was how you had almost killed Kieran.

You followed the three men out of the camp at Horseshoe overlook. You had gleaned from their conversation, that you were heading to a place called six point cabin. You had no idea where it was, but apparently it wasn't that far away.

When they reached the edge of tree lined area, they pulled up.

"We better go on foot from here," Bill concluded.

You all dismounted.

Arthur looked at you, "when the shooting starts, you keep down, Ok?"

You nodded, swallowing hard, you reached for your gun.

Arthur put his hand on yours, before you had a chance to draw it. "Not yet," he advised.

"Slowly and quietly, we'll see if we can catch them unawares." Arthur commanded.

As you all crept further into the tree line, Arthur and Bill, took out three O'Driscolls silently, using their knives.

Once you crept further into the compound, you could see it was filled with outlaws.

Arthur motioned for you to hide behind a crate. Then the firing started. You pulled out your gun, your heart beating wildly. You dared not come out from behind the crate though, especially since several bullets seemed to be hitting the crate.

Arthur, John and Bill ran between crates and overturned tree trunks, taking cover, and shooting.

After a few minutes, there was silence.

You peered out from behind the crate, your eyes wide, as you saw the dead O'Driscolls littering the ground.

"I'm going to check the cabin, see what you can find out here," Arthur yelled.

You watched as Arthur approached the cabin door. He was about to reach for the handle, when the door flew open, knocking him to the ground. A man stood there, point a shotgun at Arthur.

You pointed your gun at him, and pulled the trigger. You carried on walking towards him, you didn't stop pulling the trigger, even though he had fallen to the floor.

You stood there pointing the gun at the dead O'Driscoll, you carried on pulling the trigger over and over, despite the fact that it only made a resounding click. The barrel had been emptied into the man a while ago.

You were oblivious to what was going on around you, until you felt a hand touch yours. You looked up to see Arthur standing in front of you. He pulled the gun from your hand. You stared at the dead man on the ground in disbelief. You had done this, you had killed him.

"It's OK Blair," he soothed, "it's over."

You looked back at Arthur, your face expressionless.

"I killed him!" You stared at the dead man on the floor. What sort of nightmare had you walked into.

You felt Arthur's hand on your face, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your cheek.

"Arthur?" You whispered, "what have I done?" You asked, your voice trembling.

Arthur smiled softly, "you just saved my life, that's what you did!"

You stared at him, slowly blinking.

He shook his head "Blair, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" You mumbled.

Arthur smiled, "with them big brown doe eyes of yours, you ain't making this easy."

You frowned, "I don't under..."

Your words were cut off as Arthur slid his hand from your cheek, and grasped the back of your neck, as his lips pressed against yours.

Unable to pull away, you gasped. As you did, his tongue penetrated your mouth, darting across your own and claiming dominance. His kiss became more fierce, savage even. You heard a clatter as your gun, that Arthur had been holding, dropped to the ground. His hand slid up the back of your shirt and gently stroked the skin on your back. Softly, delicately, in complete contrast to his kiss. You trembled and kissed him back. Now savouring the taste of him. Your hands pressed gently to his chest, feeling the tight muscles through the course material of his shirt.

"Arthur! What the hell...?" John shouted.

Arthur pulled away from you, removing his hands from your back and neck. He bent down and picked up your gun. As he gave it to you, he gently stroked your face

"Here, put that away, and take a look in the cabin and see what you can find." he said.

You put the gun in your belt, and looked at Arthur then looked at John, who was storming towards the cabin, his face like thunder.

"Go on!" Arthur repeated, giving you a gentle tap on your backside, with the palm of his hand.

You flinched slightly, more in surprise than anything else, and headed into the cabin. Now you were really confused.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Arthur!" John yelled.

"Nothing that should concern you, Marston." Arthur growled.

"She's just a kid, Arthur," John replied angrily.

You glanced through the door, watching as Arthur pulled out a cigarette, and struck a match on the heel of his boot, before lighting it.

"She ain't any younger than Abigail was, when you started to fuck her!" Arthur spat.

John sighed, "Just don't want history to repeat itself, is all."

Arthur laughed mirthlessly, "don't worry on that score, Marston, I ain't gonna get her pregnant, then run off!"

"I weren't talking about Abigail!" John hissed.

Arthur threw the half smoked cigarette on the floor, and headed into the cabin.

"You find anything Blair?" he asked.

You swallowed hard, not wanting to look him in the eye. "A money clip, and a shotgun above the fireplace," you whispered.

Arthur walked over to the fireplace, and grabbed the gun.

He hummed, "Not bad, maybe I should teach you to shoot a rifle, eh."

"Maybe," you mumbled, looking at the floor of the cabin.

Arthur reached up into the chimney breast above the fireplace.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, as he pulled out a wad of notes. "Always check the chimney when you're looking for stuff, Blair."

He turned to look at you. "Blair, are you listening to me?" he shouted.

You looked up, to see Arthur staring at you, "Oh.. No... Sorry, I was just thinking." you explained.

Arthur smirked, "well don't think too hard, sweetheart. C'mon, we should head back."

He pressed his hand to your back, and shepherded out of the cabin.

John was still standing there.

"You still here, Marston!" Arthur scoffed.

John scowled, "just makin' sure that Blair gets home safe," he hissed.

Arthur chuckled, "Ain't nothin' gonna happen to Blair, not now I'm lookin' after her."


	8. Chapter 8

The ride back from the cabin was tensely silent. John kept on casting disparaging looks at Arthur, who glared back at him. Bill seemed totally oblivious to it all.

You felt like your whole world had come crashing down. A little bit like how you felt when you'd seen your daddy's body, chucked into the cart.

The only consolation, you had, was that the gun tucked into your belt, had no bullets. At least you couldn't shoot anybody else.

And then of course there was Arthur. You were so confused, you didn't know how you felt. Its not like you could talk to anyone about it. After all, it seemed as though that's how the women of the camp behaved, and the men assumed that it was ok. Even Javier, kissing your hand by your tent the other night. You just thought he was being friendly.

By the time you got back to the Horseshoe overlook, your mind was in turmoil.

You quickly jumped off of Lily, hitched her and ran to your tent.

Arthur called after you, "Blair! Wait, come here!"

You ignored him and carried on running, until you reached your tent, quickly closing the flaps behind you.

You pulled the gun out of your belt, and threw it on the floor. You didn't want it anywhere near you.

Throwing yourself on the cot, you closed your eyes, and buried your head in the pillow. All you could see were flashbacks. The outlaw standing in the doorway, smirking whilst he pointed the gun at Arthur. The blood, which had spewed from the outlaws mouth, just before he fell to the ground dead.

You sobbed into the pillow. When you heard the raised voices of Dutch, Arthur, John and Hosea outside the tent, you covered your ears with your hands, to block it out.

You were so busy with your own inner turmoil that you didn't hear the tent flap open, or hear the person walked across to the cot where you were lying.

The first you knew about it, was when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned your head, tears still running down your face, to see Susan sitting on the edge of the cot.

She wrapped her arms around you, "It's gonna be ok, really it is," she soothed.

"I don't wanna be an outlaw," you sobbed, "I don't wanna kill no more,"

She shushed you, and patted your back, as you buried your face in her shoulder.

You heard the tent flap open. You knew who it was, before you even glanced up. The smell of his cologne, intermingled with cigars.

Dutch stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his face.

You buried your face, in Susan's shoulder, your sobbing renewed with even more vigour. Your breaths now coming in gasps.

"I don't think now's a good time, Dutch," Susan advised, as she rubbed your back, trying to calm you once again.

Dutch walked over to the cot, his scent becoming stronger, as he got closer.

"Let me," he whispered to Susan, softly.

Susan gently pushed you away, and you felt Dutch's strong arms replace hers.

You looked up at him, still sobbed, your breath coming in laboured gasps.

"I...I...Can't...Do this," you stuttered, in-between each rasping breath.

He hushed you, gently pressing your head to his chest, and stroking your hair.

"It's ok Blair, you don't have to." he soothed.

"Susan, get me some whiskey and see if Mr Pearson has any warm milk," he whispered. "Oh, and Susan, get rid of that gun," he added.

You turned your head slightly to see Susan pick the gun up off of the floor and leave the tent with it.

"I...I keep... Keep seeing... It." you gasped.

Dutch rubbed your back, "I know Blair, but if you hadn't, Arthur would be dead. Now you wouldn't want that, would you?"

You shook your head, as another sob escaped from your lips.

As your sobbing continued, you heard the tent flap open again, as you glanced up, you saw Arthur standing in the doorway.

Dutch stopped rubbing your back, and glared at Arthur

"For fuck's sake, Arthur. I told you to stay away from her." he growled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "I only wanted to check she was ok,"

Dutch narrowed his eyes, "How the hell you think she is, after what you did!"

Arthur turned and left the tent, without saying another word.

"I... I'm sorry," you whispered.

Dutch continued rubbing your back, "Hush now, you ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," he soothed.

Your sobbing slowly subsided, and your breathing started to return to normal. When you heard the tent flap open again, it was Susan.

"Here sweetheart, drink this. It'll help you sleep." she soothed.

Dutch let you sit up, and you took the drink from Susan. He sat on the edge of the cot, rubbing your back, whilst you drank the warm liquid.

Susan took the cup from you, whilst she looked on at Dutch's ministrations.

He gently laid you down on the cot, his thumbs wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

"Now close your eyes, and try and get some sleep," he whispered, before placing his lips on your forehead, in a gentle kiss.

Your eyelids felt heavy, so you closed your eyes.

"Susan, get one of the ladies to sit with her tonight," Dutch whispered.

It was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep. A sleep plagued with visions of dead outlaws, and Arthur Morgan.

You let out a blood curdling scream, which woke you up. Sweat was pouring down your face, stinging your eyes. You shirt clung to your back. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a heard a soft voice gently hushing you. You looked up to see Mary-Beth, gently comforting you.

"It's ok, it was just a bad dream," she soothed.

"I'm sorry," you croaked.

Mary-Beth, passed you a mug of water, "Don't be silly," she whispered, "just drink this."

You took a sip, "how long have you been sitting there." you asked.

Mary-Beth smiled, a few hours, since you fell asleep.

You looked at the book, open on her lap.

"You should probably go to bed, I'll be fine," you concluded.

She shook her head, "Dutch wanted someone to sit with you. I don't mind, it means I can read, then I'll sleep later."

You lay back down, "Will you read to me Mary-Beth?" you asked, hesitantly.

Mary-Beth smiled, "of course, as long as you don't mind a romance novel, it's all I read," she chuckled.

You smiled back, "I don't mind, as long as no one gets killed," you added.

"I don't think they do," she said, "but if they do, I can always miss that bit out."

You nodded, and closed your eyes, as you listened to Mary-Beth's soft voice.

You opened them again, when you heard the tent flap open.

"Is everything alright," Hosea asked, peering into the tent.

Mary-Beth stopped reading, "Blair, had a nightmare, but she's ok now," she glanced at you, "aren't you Blair?"

You nodded, and closed your eyes again.

"If you need anything, just come and find me," Hosea whispered.

Once the tent flap closed, Mary-Beth continued reading. Her soft voice lulling you back to sleep.

Whether it was the soft voice of Mary-Beth, or the banal story that she was reading, you sleep was undisturbed by visions of outlaws and blood.

When you finally woke, the light which filtered into your tent, was soft ambient glow made you realise it was late. How late you had no way of knowing.

You looked at the chair where Mary-Beth had been sitting. You were surprised, to see Dutch sitting there, reading.

He smiled softly, and put the book down. He stood up, and came over, to sat on the side of the cot.

His hand gently touched your cheek, "How are you feeling, Blair? You look a little pale."

"I'm little tired," you admitted.

"Of course you are, a lot happened yesterday," he comforted.

Dutch removed his hand, and stared at you.

"Sit up a moment, would you Blair?" he asked.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, and looked at him.

"You know," Dutch began, "You have the most amazing bone structure," he gently dragged his fingers across one of your cheek bones, "and the most striking eyes," he gently, put his fingers under your chin, tilting it upwards.

You felt your face heating up.

Dutch smiled, "don't ever be ashamed of your looks Blair, you are growing into a fine young woman,"

You bit, your bottom lip, "Arthur said..."

Dutch removed his fingers from your chin, and placed his hands over yours, as he shushed you.

"Don't take any notice of what Arthur says, he can be a lout at times," he added.

"Now, if you feel up to it, why don't you get dressed, a have something to eat." Dutch suggested, "Then," he continued, "I understand you used to help your daddy with his horses?"

You nodded, wondering what he had in mind.

"The Count, could really do with a good brush if you think you're up to it?" he asked.

You smiled, and nodded, "I'd like that."

"Good, now don't let that horse of mine bully you, he can be a brute," Dutch stood up.

He walked towards the door of the tent, at the last minute he turned around and looked at you.

"You know, Blair, if you would allow me, I would like to draw you?"

You tilted your head to one side, "I didn't know you could draw!" you exclaimed.

Dutch chuckled, "One of my many talents," he boasted, as he turned and left the tent.

You looked towards the tent exit, for a few minutes after Dutch had left. Touching your face, you smiled. You'd never really thought of yourself as pretty. Arthur and Javier had said as much, and now Dutch. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind, and hunted around the tent for your boots, which had been removed at some point yesterday, when you had been put to bed.

You headed straight for the fire, when you left your tent, and helped yourself to a bowl of stew. It was relatively quiet, so you guessed that most people must be out doing jobs. There was no sign of Arthur or Javier. After you'd eaten, you decided to walk over to where the horses were hitched.

You gave Lily a pat, and searched around in your saddlebag until you found a brush.

Right, you thought to yourself. Let's see what sort of a brute The Count is. You were finally doing something that you were confident with. If you spent the rest of your life, just looking after the gangs horses you would be quite happy.

You walked over to the albino Arab stallion. He threw his head about as you approached, and pinned his ears flat as he started to snort, and give you a wild look.

You chuckled, "give it a rest you daft brute," you scoffed.

The horse snorted, and nudged you.

"Oh, you wanna be my friend now!" you scolded.

You put your hand in your pocket, and found a peppermint. His ears immediately pricked forward.

Holding your hand flat you held it out in front him. He nickered, then took the treat.

"Friends now, eh" you smirked, and started to brush the horse. Every so often he would nudge you, until you stroked the front of his head.

"If you ask me," you said to him, "you're just a big softie...but your secret's safe with me."

"Good at keeping secrets are you?"

You spun around, to see Kieran standing there.

You scowled at him, "what do you want?"

Kieran smirked, "Sadie is a bit worried you won't be keeping hers, so here's a gift."

You saw a glint out the corner of your eye, as the sun caught on something metal. Too late you realised what it was, as you felt a sharp pain in your side, you cried out, but it was quickly muffled, as Kieran placed his other hand over your mouth. He still held the hilt of the blade, that was poking out of your side.

"And this is for me," he hissed. He gave the blade, a sharp twist. You screamed, as an agonising shaft of pain, went through your body. The sound was muffled by Kierans hand, then your legs buckled and you fell to the floor, as Keiran released his grip on the knife.

"Sweet dreams," he sneered as he walked towards Lily. You watched him mount and ride off down the track.


	9. Chapter 9

You lay in the dirt, you wanted to call out, but you could barely breathe, let alone talk.

You put your hand to the wound in your side, in a vain attempt to stem the flow. You hissed, as pain ripped through your side. Your life source slowly trickling through the gap in your fingers. Your gasp for breath turned into a rasp, as you regurgitated a bubbling mixture of phlegm and blood.

Your vision began to blur, but not before you noticed The Count, starting to become agitated. If the knife wound didn't kill you, then the likelihood was the horse probably would, as he pranced, threw his head about, and emitted ear splitting whinnies.

"H...elp," you gurgled, in a last ditch effort to call for help, but your voice was barely above a whisper. It was at this point you realised, that there was little point. Kieran had planned his attack well, you were going to bleed out. Then all they would find would be your lifeless corpse.

Strange to think that your saviour would be a horse. But that was how it turned out. The screams emitted from The Count probably saved your life.

The horse, whilst being a complete bastard to everyone he came into contact with, bar Dutch, was usually quiet.

Whether it was the smell of blood, oozing from you. Or maybe he had found another human being he liked, besides Dutch. No one would ever truly know.

After about five minutes of hearing his horse screaming, Dutch decided, he should find out what was wrong.

As he walked towards the hitching post you heard him yell.

"Goddamn horse, what the fuck is wrong with you!"

It was only when he got closer, he saw you, lying there, blood already beginning to pool on the ground by your body. Your breathing, shallow and laboured.

"Blair!" Dutch yelled.

He quickly pulled out his own knife, cutting the reins which secured his horse to the hitching post. He swatted the horse on the rump, causing it to gallop off into the trees, away from your prone body.

"Hosea! Susan! Anyone, I need some help over here!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

Dutch knelt down next to you, cradling your head in his hand.

"Blair, stay with me." he gently tapped your face with his hand.

Your eyes fluttered open, "I..." you gasped, as another cough racked your body, and blood trickled from the side of your mouth.

Dutch gently swept a your hair from your forehead. "It's gonna be ok, I gotcha," he soothed.

John came running over, closely followed by Hosea, and Bill, who was on guard duty.

"Help me," Dutch commanded, "some bastard has stabbed her," he hissed.

Dutch held you under your arms, and John took your legs.

"Gently," Hosea warned, "let's not make this any worse than it is already."

With one fluid movement of his arm, Hosea swept everything off one of the tables.

"Put her here, I'm gonna need to stop the bleeding, and stitch it up!"

Hosea pulled out his knife, and cut your shirt off, leaving Kieran's knife, still impaled in the side of your body.

Susan came running over, with medical supplies.

Hosea shook his head, "At least the knife is still in her, that may have stopped some of the blood flow."

You opened your eyes, your vision had started to blur.

Hosea looked at you. "Hang on in there, my dear. I'm going to do what I can," he whispered.

Susan handed him a bottle of whiskey and a cloth.

"Susan, I'm gonna need to cauterize this wound." he whispered.

You heard him though. You knew what that meant.

You turned your head, and watched her walk towards the fire. Panic in your eyes

Hosea whispered something in Dutch's ear, which you didn't hear.

"Blair, honey. I need you to be very brave," Dutch whispered. He gently put his hand on your cheek, and moved your head, so you could no longer see what Susan was doing.

Hosea reached into his pocket, and brought out a piece of wood, which he doused in whiskey.

"Blair, I want you to bite down on this, it'll help the pain."

You opened your mouth and let him put the wood into it. You grimaced at the taste, but you had a horrible feeling that you knew what was going to happen next. The way that the three men, were exchanging glances. The look on Susan's face, as she approached the table.

You watched as Hosea soaked a rag with some whiskey, then nodded.

You felt someone grab your arms, and someone else, grab your legs. You looked up, to see Bills face, his hands firmly gripping your arms.

You started to struggle, even before anything else had happened.

Dutch stroked your face, "try and stay calm," he soothed, "it's gonna be ok."

But you knew it was going to be far from ok, as a sob escaped from you.

They were quick, you could give them that. But for you time seemed to slow.

Hosea pulled out the knife, quickly replacing it with the whiskey soaked cloth, for a few seconds.

It was at this point, you screamed through the piece of wood, a combination of screams and sobs.

All the time, Dutch was there, holding your head. His hands on your face, rubbing your cheeks gently with his thumbs, telling you it was nearly over.

You writhed on the table, Struggling to get away from Hosea, and the pain he was inflicting. It was nothing compared to what happened next.

Susan put something against the open wound. You weren't quite sure what it was, but it burned, and the pain was nothing like you had ever felt before. You shrieked, and the wood fell out of your mouth. Your scream turned into a gargled sob. Dutch was saying something, but the words meant nothing to you. You struggled harder, arching your back.

"Hold her still!" Hosea growled.

One of Dutch's hands left your face, and you felt his hand press down on your stomach, his rings on your bare flesh, making you shiver. But his firm hand, kept you flat on the table, so that Hosea could finish whatever he was doing.

Finally the men let go of your arms and legs. Your muscles ached, from being held in one position, you didn't have the energy to move them.

It was nothing compared to the pain in your side.

Your sobbing had stopped now. You just lay there whimpering, like a hurt animal whilst Susan bandaged the wound.

Dutch stroked your forehead, "It's all over, Blair. It's all done," he soothed.

Finally, you let yourself succumb to the darkness.

Every so often you'd hear voices, whispers. Feel gently touches on your face or hand. The pain was still there though, it had changed now, and was just a dull throb. You didn't have the energy to open your eyes, and sleep took you again.

You weren't sure how long it had been, since Dutch had found you in the dirt, and Hosea stopped you from bleeding out. When you opened your eyes, you recognised your surroundings. Even though the dimly lit lantern cast bizarre shadows on the fabric of your tent. 

Your face must have shown the fear, that still coursed through your brain.

It was mirrored in the concerned look, on Dutch's face.

"Steady, its ok." Dutch soothed, his hand gently stroking your face.

You moved your hand to touch your side, but before you could, Dutch grabbed hold of it.

"Don't!" he scolded. "Just rest, it's healing it'll just take time."

Dutch gently tilted your head, and brought a cup to your lips, "here, drink this."

You swallowed the water, thankfully, your throat was so dry.

"He stabbed me," you croaked.

Dutch nodded, "Kieran?"

"He said..." you started to speak, but Dutch shushed you.

"You need to rest, Hosea says you lost a lot of blood. We figured it was Kieran, when no one could find him,"

"But..."

"No buts, Blair. You rest." Dutch demanded, sharply.

You sighed, you knew you wouldn't be safe until they knew he'd been working with Sadie. But you were too exhausted to argue.

Dutch gently stroked your forehead with his hand, "I've been worried about you, I...we thought we might lose you." he confessed.

You closed your eyes. He was right about one thing, you did need rest.

You drifted off to sleep, soothed by the hand that gently stroked your face.

The next time you woke, it was light. Hosea sat on the chair next to your cot. He smiled when you opened your eyes.

"Hosea, I..." you began.

He shushed you. "Save your strength."

He tilted your head, and gave you more water.

"By all accounts you should be dead," he said frowning. "So the last thing you need to be doing is talking."

"But..." you started, but were quickly interrupted.

"No Blair, no ifs, buts, or maybes. You need to rest. There'll be plenty of time for talking later, You lost a lot of blood, too much. Your body needs to repair itself." he scolded.

You sighed. As much as you wanted to argue, you didn't have the strength. It felt like you had been run over by a train. You could barely move. Your arms felt like lead, and your eyelids were so heavy, you could barely keep them open.

At least if people were sitting with you, there was less likelihood that Sadie would try and finish the job that Kieran had started. But she would try, eventually. After all, you were supposed to be dead. It was the only way she could guarantee that you would keep your mouth shut.

As you lay there, drifting in and out of a half sleep, you heard a lot of shouting outside.

"Where the hell is she then!" Arthur yelled.

You opened your eyes. Hosea was already standing, and heading towards the door, when Arthur stormed into the tent.

He glared at you.

"Why in hells name didn't you say something!" he growled at you.

You stared at him, you'd never seen him quite so angry.

"We found Kieran," he hissed, "with a little persuasion, he told us everything!"

"You called me a liar once, I didn't think anyone would believe me," you sighed.

Hosea, of course, had been right, even the effort of talking was exhausting you.

You closed your eyes, trying to find some reserves of energy. When you opened them again, Arthur was sitting on the edge of the cot.

"I'm sorry, Blair," he sighed, gently stroking your face. "But you could have been killed,"

"Where is she?" you asked.

Arthur shook his head, "She's gone, we don't know where yet."

He stroked your hair, and gently pressed his lips to your forehead.

"I really care about you Blair, I hope you know that." he whispered.

Before you had a chance to answer, Dutch walked into the tent.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Arthur." He growled.

Arthur stood up, arms folded, he glared back at Dutch.

"You're not the only one that cares about Blair," he hissed, "besides, she's still in danger!"

Dutch narrowed his eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"C'mon," Arthur huffed, "we need to talk."

You watched as both men left the tent, you wondered why they were both so angry at each other.

Hosea came and sat down on the chair again.

"What's going on Hosea?" you asked.

Hosea patted your hand gently, and smiled, "they both care about you Blair, a lot!"

You stared at Hosea, "Arthur kissed me!" you blurted.

Hosea chuckled, "yes, I know, that's why Dutch is so cross, Arthur is impetuous, Dutch likes to take his time!"

You stared at Hosea, your eyes wide. Realisation suddenly dawning.

"But..." you stuttered, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. Had you been standing, the lack of blood in your system would have probably caused you to faint at the thought.

Hosea hushed you, "Don't worry, Blair, I'm sure things will all work out. Now get some rest."

You closed your eyes, your mind racing. Sleep only coming, due to your exhausted state.

This time your dreams were plagued with outlaws, but not the ones with guns.


	10. Chapter 10

The next time you woke, you were relieved to see Susan sitting there, rather than Dutch or Arthur. You wondered if Hosea had spoken to them, since he left you.

Susan smiled, when she saw that you were awake.

"How are you feeling, Blair?" she asked, sympathetically.

You looked down at your bandaged side. "Sore, but not as tired as I was."

Susan nodded, "That's good, I'll go and find Dutch, I know he wants to talk to you." she stated, standing up.

"Please don't," you begged.

Susan frowned, "why not Blair, what's the problem."

You thought for a moment, you didn't really want to tell her the real reason. That Dutch and Arthur were fighting over you.

"I'd just rather not having any men in my tent at all," you admitted.

Susan folded her arms, "Well, its Dutch's camp, so there's not a lot I can do to stop him, but I can pass on your request!"

You sighed. "Thank you, Susan. I would appreciate it."

She nodded, "I'll get you some food, you need to eat something to help get your strength back."

You watched as she left the tent, suddenly you felt vulnerable. You kind of wished you hadn't said anything. When Susan told Dutch that you didn't want any men in your tent, the first thing he would do, would be to come in and find out why.

It was then the realisation hit you, that you had, nothing on your top, except your underwear and bandages

You tried to sit up, a hiss escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes. The sharp pain in your side, forcing you to lay back down again.

"You should be resting!"

Your eyes snapped open, as soon as you heard the voice.

Dutch stood in the doorway, a bowl of food in his hand.

He slowly walked across the tent, towards the cot, and placed the bowl on a small table next to it.

Dutch sat down on the edge of the cot.

"Here, let me help," he offered.

You didn't have a great deal of choice, and besides it didn't appear to be a question.

You felt his hand slide underneath you, his hand resting on the soft bare skin of your back. You trembled, as he slowly helped you to sit.

His hand stayed on your back, as he watched your face. He slowly began to trace circular patterns on your back, with the tips of his fingers.

"Dutch...Please don't," you pleaded.

A shiver ran down your spine, sending a warm sensation in the pit of your stomach

He smirked at you, "Why?"

"Please Dutch... I don't like..." you gasped, unable to finish your sentence.

His fingers trailed down the ridges of your spine, making you whole body tingle.

You let out a quiet moan.

"You don't like it? Your body is betraying you, Blair." he purred.

He gently stroked your face with his other hand, at the same time running his hand up and down your spine.

"I think you like it quite a lot, isn't that the case?" Dutch whispered, as he moved his head closer to yours.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to answer him. You were feeling sensations you hadn't felt before.

"Blair? Answer me!" he whispered.

You opened your eyes and nodded, as another uncontrollable moan escaped from your lips, unbidden.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Blair," he purred, as his thumb traced a line along your lips.

You found your mouth opening involuntarily, as it did, he cupped your jaw with his hand, and gently pressed his lips against yours.

You waited for his tongue to invade your mouth, but it didn't happen. His kiss was gentle, and as his fingers trailed up and down your back, you found yourself kissing him back.

The sensation on your back changed, his fingers no longer tracing along your back. Instead the palm of his hand, holding your back firmly. The warmth of his hand seemed to radiate into your whole body.

The kiss ended as gently as it had started, and his hand now moved from your cheek, as his fingers raked gently through your hair.

"Now Blair, I need you to eat something, can you do that?" he whispered.

You nodded.

"Good girl," he soothed, and kissed your forehead, tenderly.

He reached across and passed you the bowl of food, smiling.

He took his hand from your back and stood up.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered.

And then he was gone, leaving you sitting there, wondering what had just happened.

All your resolve to tell him no, just flew out the window.

You licked your lips, you could still taste him, cigars and fine brandy, still smell the scent of him, lingering in the room, and still feel the sensation he had left behind.

You looked at the stew, your appetite all but gone. You knew if you didn't eat, though, you would be in trouble. If not from Dutch then from Susan, or Hosea.

Once you had finished, you lay the bowl on the edge of the cot, not being in any fit state to reach over and put it on the table. Not without causing yourself some discomfort anyway.

You looked at the silver locket, hanging around your neck. You flipped it open, and stared at the portraits of your Mother and Father.

You touched the portrait of your mother with your thumb, and closed your eyes. "Oh mama," you whispered, "I wish you were here, I could do with some advice."

You opened your eyes, when you heard the noise of canvas creaking. As the tent flap opened you saw Arthur standing there.

"I'm sorry about your parents, Blair." He said, as he walked towards you.

You put your hand over the locket, which hung around your neck.

"I miss them, especially mama," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Arthur moved the empty bowl from the edge of the cot, and put it on the table.

He sat down on the cot, and took your hand.

"I need to talk to you," he hesitated, "about Sadie, and your parents."

Tears started to pool in your eyes, "there's nothing more to say, Sadie killed my mother, and somehow persuaded Kieran to try and kill me." you whispered, holding back your tears.

Arthur gently rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb.

"It's not as simple as that, Blair. Your daddy, he planned the whole thing with Sadie,"

You pulled your hand away, "No!" you sobbed, "No, my daddy loved my mama!"

"Blair, you need to listen," Arthur continued.

"No!" You screamed, "I won't listen, my daddy loved me and my mama, he was a good man!"

Dutch stormed into the tent, "What the hell is going on," he yelled, glaring at Arthur, and looking at you, tears running down your cheeks.

Arthur stood up, and walked over to Dutch.

"Sadie killed her mother, but her father knew all about it. They planned it together," Arthur stated.

Dutch walked over to the cot and sat down. He wrapped his arms around you. As he did, you buried your face in his chest. Uncontrollable sobs, coming from you. Arthur had to be lying, but why?

"Are you sure about this, Arthur," Dutch asked, gently stroking your back, trying to console you.

Arthur nodded. "Sadie and Jake knew each other, before he was forced to marry Blair's mother. Blair's mother had a trust fund, set-up by her father. They were gonna kill her for it, but then Blair was born. Her father couldn't bring himself to carry out the plan, until Blair was older. They figured they would kill her mother, then get the money."

Dutch frowned, "So what went wrong?"

"Seems like they didn't do their research, in the event of her death, the money didn't go to her husband, instead its held in trust for Blair, until she is eighteen. If she dies, before she reaches eighteen, it goes to her next of kin. In this case her father, or now his wife, Sadie." Arthur concluded.

You lifted your head from Dutch's chest.

"No," you sobbed, "my daddy loved me, he wouldn't try and kill me."

"And the O'Driscolls?" Dutch sneered.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Sadie got greedy. They were supposed to kill Jake and Blair. Jake had no idea, that's why he sent Blair off with the gun. Then we turned up, and messed up Sadie's plan. What better way to get hold of the money, than to blame the deaths on outlaws."

Dutch stroked your hair, "I'm so sorry, Blair, I know this isn't what you wanted to hear."

You sobbed, tears running down your face.

"Please say it isn't true," you wailed.

Dutch gazed at you, sadness in his eyes, "I'm sorry, I can't lie to you. Your daddy wasn't the man you thought he was, you and your mama just got in his way. But I made you a promise Blair Adler, that I wouldn't let you down, you remember?"

You nodded, as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Dutch turned to look at Arthur.

"I know you care for Blair, as much as I do, son. We need to find Sadie, and put an end to this. Because until Sadie is dead, or Blair turns eighteen, she's gonna be in danger."

Arthur nodded. "Dutch, we need to move. Whatever Sadie knows, Colm will know too. He's either gonna try and kill her, or kidnap her, and Sadie knows where we're camped!"

Dutch nodded, "Head out with Charles, see if you can find us a new spot."

Arthur turned to leave, "Oh, and Arthur," Dutch added, "when we get settled, your gonna need to teach Blair how to shoot, whether she wants to or not!"

Arthur nodded, and left the tent.

You looked up at Dutch, "they're gonna try and kill me, aren't they?" you whimpered.

Dutch stroked your face, "No one's gonna kill you, because we won't let them, me and Arthur, we've got your back."

Dutch gently laid you down on the cot, "Now try and rest, we have to move, and you'll need all your strength for the trip."

He kissed you gently on the forehead.

You watched as he walked to the door, when he opened the tent flap, you heard him call to Hosea.

"Hosea, I want a guard posted outside this tent, twenty four – seven."

Dutch glanced back into the tent, "Close your eyes princess, we'll keep you safe."

He closed the tent flap, leaving you alone for the first time.

You put your hands on the locket, that you always kept around your neck. You ripped it from your neck and threw it across the tent. Your whole life had been a lie. You were just a pawn, a means to an end. When people looked at you they saw dollars, not Blair Adler. You wondered if it was the same for Dutch and Arthur. Did they really care about you, or did they care about the money you would have when you turned eighteen.


	11. Chapter 11

You lay there on your cot. Your mind racing. How could you rest, when your world had just been turned upside down. You wondered if the guard on your tent, was to keep people out, or you in.

After all, if you were worth a lot of money, you wondered what would happen when you reached eighteen. Would you suddenly become not so useful, not so cared for and not so loved. Once the goose had laid the golden egg, it was toast, and so would you be.

You put your hand on the bandage, where the knife had entered. By putting just the right amount of pressure on the wound, you found you could move a bit more easily. It still hurt, but not quite so much.

After about ten minutes of experimentation, you were able to sit.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed. The first step, was to find some clothes.

Standing was a different matter, as soon as you put weight on your legs, a shaft of pain went through your side.

You stood there for a few minutes, hand clutched to your side trying to control the pain. Sweat started to bead on your forehead with the effort.

It wasn't like you needed to go far. A trunk on the other side of your tent, housed the clothes that you had been wearing in the mountains. They had been laundered, whilst you wore the hand me downs.

You took a deep breath, which you felt more than you should've done, you pushed yourself away from the cot, towards the trunk.

You staggered across like a drunk person, gripping your torso, in an attempt to dull the pain. On reaching the trunk, you let out a groan, as you dropped to your knees exhausted.

You looked up, as you saw the tent flap opening.

Dutch walked into your tent, his eyes narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing, Blair." he demanded.

You gritted your teeth, waiting for the wave of pain to pass.

"I'm getting dressed," you hissed.

Dutch rolled his eyes, "No, I don't think you are, it looks to me like you're just about to collapse."

He took a step towards you, but then noticed something, glinting on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. It was your locket.

"What's this doing on the floor?" he asked.

You grimaced, "I... threw it..." you stopped waiting for another wave of pain to pass, "away." you finished.

Dutch frowned, and stared at you, "Are you in pain, Blair?"

You shook your head, "I'm fine," you gasped.

Dutch opened the tent flap, and called outside.

"Hosea, can you get in here."

You closed your eyes for a second, "I said, I'm fine," you repeated, slowly.

Dutch shook his head and sighed, "No Blair, you're not. You've just been stabbed. Which is why you have to rest!"

You glared at him, "You think I can rest when..." you grimaced, and took a deep breath, "when..." you closed your eyes, you suddenly felt dizzy.

You winced, as you felt yourself being picked up and carried back to the cot.

You opened your eyes, you figured you must have blacked out because Hosea was sitting on the edge of the cot, and Susan was standing just behind him. They hadn't been there when you closed your eyes, or when Dutch had picked you up.

Dutch stood further back, near the door.

"That was a silly thing to do, Blair. You nearly burst your stitches. If you don't behave, I'll have to tie you to the bed!" he chuckled, as he finished re-bandaging your wound.

You didn't find that very funny.

"I am a prisoner then. That's why you're putting a guard on the tent." you huffed.

Dutch walked over, "Blair, don't be ridiculous. The guard is only there to protect you." he explained.

You stared at Dutch, "you don't have to lie, I'm just like a lock box, once you get the money out of me, you'll toss me aside or kill me. Just like Sadie killed my mama. My mama always warned me about men using you as a plaything, then tossing you aside."

Dutch looked at Hosea, "Have you finished?"

Hosea nodded, and picked up the old bandages, he headed for the door, closely followed by Susan.

He looked at Dutch, just before he left, "If you need me, just call."

Dutch nodded, before walking over to the cot where you lay.

"Don't worry, I won't cause any trouble," you sighed, and closed your eyes.

Dutch sat on the edge of the cot, "Blair, look at me?"

You opened your eyes, "why? I know what I am, you don't have to pretend any more. You can just fight your little war with the O'Driscolls, and see who ends up with the prize," you retorted, you voice breaking slightly. You closed your eyes again, and swallowed the lump in your throat. You refused to cry.

Dutch cupped your cheek in his hand, "Blair, listen..."

You interrupted him. "I guess you and Arthur can use me how you want, that's what you said in the mountains, or fuck me, like John did to Abigail when she was my age. If I get pregnant, it won't matter, I'll be eighteen in a few months, then you can just dispose of me, like the O'Driscolls did to my daddy."

A tear escaped from your eye, but you quickly closed your eye, so the lashes captured it.

Dutch held your face in his hands, "Blair, look at me!" he demanded.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to ignore him.

Dutch raised his voice, "I said look at me!"

You opened your eyes, tears beginning to pool.

"I promise you, it's not like that. I...we care about you. No one wants to use you. Everything that's happened in the past few days, it's been a shock for you, I know. But you have to trust me." He assured you.

Dutch let go on your face, and then stroked your cheek, with his hand.

"Why should I trust you, I trusted my daddy and look where that got me." you sighed, struggling to hold back the tears.

Dutch sighed, "I'm not your daddy, Blair. Now you tell me, what have I done, since we found you to hurt you, tell me one thing?" he demanded.

"Nothing," you sobbed, unable to hold the tears back.

"Oh, Blair, sweetheart." Dutch wrapped his arms around you, holding you to his chest, cradling your head in his hand.

"Why did they do it, why?" you sobbed into his chest.

Dutch kissed the top of your head, "I don't know, why. Bad people do stuff like that, they don't need a reason, and good people get caught in the crossfire."

Dutch held onto to you, rubbing your back and stroking your hair, until you stopped crying.

He gently laid you back on the cot.

"I'm not gonna let anything, or anyone hurt you, I promise. Now promise me you'll rest, and won't do anything stupid?"

"I promise," you whispered.

Dutch stroked your cheek, and gently kissed you on the forehead.

"Now try and sleep, Arthur should be back soon, and we'll find a new camp. If you need anything, just call. There will be someone just outside the door."

You closed your eyes, and felt Dutch get up from the edge of the cot.

You were exhausted, with the attempt to walk across the tent, the pain from the stab wound, and the constant crying.

It didn't take long for you to drift off to sleep.

"Blair, you need to wake up!"

Someone was calling your name, were you still dreaming?

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

"C'mon, up you get!"

You felt a hand on your back, gently sitting you up.

"Wh.. What's happening!" you groaned, finally managing to open your eyes, still half asleep.

Arthur chuckled, "I'm attempting to wake you up!"

"I have to sleep," you mumbled, closing your eyes.

"You can sleep later, you need to get dressed, C'mon!" Arthur encouraged.

You opened your eyes, the tent was dim, "It's still night," you grumbled, "Why are you waking me up!"

You rested your head on Arthur's chest, and closed your eyes. You felt his hands on your face, the calloused pad of his thumb, rubbing your cheek.

"C'mon, we have to move. The wagons are ready, we just have to take your tent down, unless you want the rest of the gang to see you in just your underwear?" he sniggered, "I'm sure the others won't complain."

Your eyes snapped open, trying to adjust to the light, or the lack of it.

"Here, put this on." he said.

You leaned away from Arthur whilst you put on a shirt, which was much to big for you. The material was soft.

"It's so soft," you exclaimed, as Arthur started to button it up.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "It's an old one of Dutch's," he commented.

You screwed up your nose. "what's wrong with mine?" you snorted.

Dutch appeared in the doorway, with a lantern.

"Yours are packed, besides, it's been laundered, now hurry up," he scolded.

"She didn't want to wake up!" Arthur moaned.

Dutch hummed, "really!" he smirked, "your lucky your injured, or I would have woken you up alright!"

"Right, put your arm around my neck, and I'll carry you to the wagon." Arthur commanded.

You put your arm around his neck, then quickly pulled it away, "Wait, I haven't got any trousers on, only my underwear," you shrieked.

Arthur pulled away the blanket, and hummed, smirking.

He looked you in the eye, as he traced his fingers slowly up the inside of your leg.

You gasped.

Dutch scowled at Arthur, "Arthur," he growled, "Help Blair put on her trousers, and hurry!"

Arthur leant over, and whispered in your ear, "lucky for you, we're in a hurry." he kissed your collarbone, the stubble of his chin, grazing your skin.

You felt your face flush.

He grabbed a pair of trousers, that were lying by the cot, and helped you to put them on.

"C'mon princess, let's get you into the wagon," he smirked, as he picked you up and carried you out of the tent.

Arthur gently placed you on some blankets, which were lying in the back of one of the wagons, then covered you with another one.

You sighed, "I'm sure it would be easier if I rode!"

Hosea leaned over the side of the wagon, checking on you, "You're not going to be riding for a few weeks young lady," he scolded, "not after your recent little escapade! Now lay down."

You frowned at him, but the look he gave you back, made you lay down on the blankets.

Before you could say anything, Javier appeared in the wagon next to you, with a rifle in his hands.

He smiled, "Don't worry chica, I'm your personal bodyguard for the journey, Dutch's orders, and they..." he pointed to either side of the wagon, "will be riding point, just in case!"

You glanced over at the two men, you recognised them immediately, Micah and Lenny. Although you hadn't been introduced, you recognised them as the two men that Dutch had asked to scout ahead, when you were leaving the mountain.

Micah leaned on the side of the wagon, "Well, ain't you a pretty little thing," he licked his lips, "maybe we can get acquainted later," he smirked.

You felt your face flush, and your heart started to thump in your chest. Arthur's words echoed in your brain; _The men round here, __won't__ think twice about taking advantage of you._

You closed your eyes. You felt safe with Javier, but Micah, not so much.


	12. Chapter 12

You lay in the back of the wagon as the convoy headed out. You had no idea what time it was, you only knew that it was sometime at night. Each of the wagons hand a small lantern attached. Also the moon was full, lighting the tracks as the wagons headed south.

To start with you lay there with your eyes open, but Micah kept on leaning over the top of the wagon, ogling you. So you decided to pretend to be asleep. This was easier said than done, since every uneven piece of track, jolted the wagon. Not helping the wound in you side.

As you lay there, you could tell he was still looking at you, even with your eyes closed. His eyes boring into you like two flames.

"She's a pretty little thing though, ain't she," Micah smirked.

"I'd shut up if I were you Micah, if Arthur hears you, well I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," Javier warned.

"I'm not scared of Morgan!" he scoffed, "besides, this little lady needs someone experienced to show her the ropes, cowpoke wont even fuck the whores in Valentine."

You lay there cringing, he was talking about you, like you were some piece of meat.

"At least he has to turn 'em down, they don't even ask you!" Lenny sniggered.

"Shut your mouth boy," Micah snarled.

As you lay there, in the back of the wagon, you heard a new voice you didn't recognise.

"Oi, Micah. You've got to go up front, I've got to take over here."

"Says who," Micah sneered.

"Arthur and Dutch, just following orders,"

You heard Micah grumble, then the clatter of horses hooves as his horse rode away.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, Sean, when he comes back!" Lenny Chuckled.

You opened your eyes, and glanced over at the side of the wagon.

The young Irishman, smiled at you.

"Ah the young miss is awake," he chuckled, a glint in his eye, "Sean Maguire at your service miss!"

Javier shook his head, "She's been awake all the time, you idiot."

Sean puffed himself up, "I knew that, just didn't want that oily turd being an arse!"

You chuckled, "please to meet you Sean, I'm Blair," you introduced yourself.

"Oh I know who you are!" he exclaimed.

"I hope you don't get into trouble, when Micah comes back," you worried.

"Oh don't you worry miss, he wont be coming back," he chuckled.

Javier frowned, "how come?"

"Because I told Arthur, he was trying it on. Arthur was furious," Sean chuckled. "Then I told him I'd take his place."

"How did you know?" you asked, as surprised as the others.

Sean laughed, "he's a slimy creep. It was only a matter of time before he started hitting on ya."

Javier shook his head, "what about you Sean, we all know what you're like!"

You frowned, wondering if he was worse than Micah.

Sean looked over at you, "Don't you worry Miss, I'm a gentleman, and quite harmless."

Javier and Lenny both chuckled.

"Harmless, maybe. A gentlemen, don't you believe a word of it miss," Lenny quipped.

You smiled, "I think you're all gentlemen. Well you seem to be!"

The three outlaws laughed.

"We're none of us gentlemen, chica. But we're here to protect you, and that's what we'll do. Now I suggest you all be quiet, the whole point of travelling after dark, is so we won't be noticed.

You smiled, you now felt more at ease, now that Micah wasn't hovering around the wagon.

The rest of the journey went without incident. The most annoying part next to your side hurting, due to the jolting of the wagon, was not being able to talk. Especially since Sean had started riding next to the wagon. You found him funny, and friendly.

It took a while to reach the destination. Not that you had any idea where it was. But the air became muggy, and thick, which you didn't particularly like.

It was still dark when the convoy of wagons turned off the main track, down a densely wooded path. When they came to a halt, you could smell it. The smell of being next to a lake, and the air became slightly cooler and less muggy.

"Javier, please, help me sit up, I want to see." you begged.

Javier gently helped you to sit, and you looked over the side of the wagon, to see the moon reflecting in the stillness of the lake. It lifted your spirits, for the first time in days. You just hoped that Dutch wouldn't keep you shut in the tent. You longed to be out in the fresh air. You hoped that now you were away from the other camp, he would consider it safe for you to be outside.

For now, though, you lay back down on the blankets, and closed your eyes. Now the wagon was still, you were able to drift off to sleep for however much of the night remained.

You were slightly surprised when you woke the following morning to find yourself on a cot. Even more surprised, if not alarmed, to find a strong pair of muscular arms wrapped around you.

You tried to wriggle out of them, but you were held fast. Looking around, slightly panicked you realised you weren't in your tent, and all you were wearing was Dutch's shirt, and your knickers. You did recognise the scent though, and when he spoke, his voice confirmed it.

"Ah, so you're finally awake. Stop wriggling, you're quite safe," Dutch chuckled, as he pressed his chest against your back.

"Wh... What are you doing in my cart?" you stuttered, your face beginning to flush.

Dutch smirked, "actually, sweetness, you're in mine!"

"Why?" you gasped.

He chuckled, "because last night it was too late, to put up all the tents. One of the perks of being gang leader, is I get mine first. I wasn't about to leave you to sleep in a wagon all night!"

You felt his hand slide into the inside of your shirt, and rest on the bare skin of your stomach, heat radiating through your body, you trembled.

"I..." You gasped as his hand began to move across your stomach.

"Don't tell me you don't like this, Blair. I can tell that you do, don't you? He purred.

You let out a cross between a moan and a whimper in acknowledgement, as you felt a warmth rising in the pit of your stomach. You tried your best to back away from his hand. But your back only pressed harder against the solid wall of Dutch's muscular chest, and the hand applied a little more pressure, keeping you in place.

Dutch nuzzled the back of your neck.

He hummed, "you smell so good."

He kissed your neck, swirling his tongue on the soft flesh, peppering it with little marks.

Your whole body shuddered, and you moaned. You really wanted him to stop, but it felt so good, but so wrong.

"You taste good too," he purred. "Such a shame I have things to do," he sighed. "I could spend all day doing this."

Dutch released his grip on you, and got off the cot. You quickly glanced over at him, as he started to dress. You were relieved to see that he was wearing underwear. Although he was shirtless. You'd never seen him, or any other man for that matter, without any clothes. You couldn't help but roll over to face him. You stared at his chest.

Dutch looked at you and chuckled. "Do you like what you see?"

Your face flushed, "I've never seen a man without clothes on," you admitted.

Dutch walked over to the cot, "Oh, Blair, you are so sweet and innocent," he purred.

He sat on the cot, and cupped your cheek in his hand. His lips pressed against yours, a gentle kiss, which you returned.

Dutch chuckled, "or maybe not as innocent as you make out!"

You bit your bottom lip, and stared at him.

Dutch gazed at you and shook his head, "you're gonna look at me like this once too often, Miss Adler, then I won't be responsible for my actions," he warned.

He stood you up and continued dressing.

"When can I go back to my tent?" you asked.

Dutch hummed, "I'm not sure. I quite like you in mine, so I need to find Miss O'Shea somewhere to sleep."

"But I..." you started, but were quickly interrupted.

"I'm sure we'll work something out, but what I want I usually get," he added as he walked out of the tent.

You sat up in the cot. The wound in your side, was not really painful like it had been. You glanced around the tent, it was a nice one, bigger than everyone else's. You saw table across the other side, where you clothes had been laid. You daren't risk trying to stand though. You just hoped that someone would come soon, so you could at least get some clothes on.

You didn't have long to wait, Susan came into the tent shortly, carrying some food and some water.

She smiled as she put it down on the table next to the cot.

"Could you pass me my clothes?" you asked.

Susan chuckled, "Of course."

She walked across to the other side of the tent, picking up the folded clothes. She also picked up a book.

"You'll go crazy if you have nothing to do, so maybe you'd like to read," She suggested.

You nodded. After you had dressed, you sat on the edge of the cot and ate the food that Susan had brought. With nothing else to do, you picked up the book, that Susan had left you 'Jane Eyre'. Not one that you had read before. You could certainly read, your parents had made sure of that. When you were younger, you used to read a lot, but as you got older, living on a ranch you had spent most of your spare time with the horses, rather than reading.

Susan came back after a short while, to collect the empty dishes, and she opened both tent flaps. It meant you had a good view of the camp, and the lake also.

You wished you could take the book, and sit on the shore and read. But for now this would have to do.

You had meant to ask Susan about your tent, but you found yourself distracted by the book.

After several changes of position, you sat cross-legged, with the book balanced on your hands. Oblivious now to the outside world as you let your imagination take you into the pages. If you had to be stuck in one place, then at least you could do something that was a lost pleasure.

Engrossed in your reading, you didn't notice Dutch walk into the tent, gazing at you intently. The expressions on your face changing, as you read. Little frowns, or smiles. Pupils dilating and contracting as you read the ups and downs of the heroine's life on the ageing pages.

He walked over to the cot and gently touched your leg.

You gasped, and dropped the book.

"I'm sorry," Dutch chuckled, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Your heart was beating hard in your chest. "I was miles away," you admitted.

Dutch picked up the book, and read the title.

"Ah, Jane Eyre, one of my favourites. Are you an avid reader, Blair? He asked.

You shrugged, "Not really, at least not recently. But now, not being able to do much, I'm enjoying this one," you concluded.

Dutch smiled, "Well, maybe you can read to me later, or I can read to you."

You frowned, then smiled and nodded. "Sure," you acknowledged.

"But for now," he added, "I've brought you a gift."

Dutch placed a plain wooden box on the bed.

You looked at it, curiously. Tilting your head to one side. You ran your fingers over the box. The wood was smooth and highly polished. It was held closed by a small brass clip.

You looked up at Dutch, who smiled.

"Go on, open it," he encouraged.

You opened the brass clip and slowly opened the box.

"Now I know you said you didn't want a gun, or to have to shoot anyone, but given the circumstances, I think you should have one, just for protection," he advised.

You looked inside. The box was lined with blue velvet, and laying inside was a revolver.

You slowly reached in to pick it up. It was so different to your daddy's old gun. His had been heavy, dark metal, with a worn wooden grip. This one was light, the metal was bright silver, with delicate engraving along the barrel. The grip was mother of pearl, with an eagle engraved on it.

You ran your fingers over the engraving. It was a thing of beauty.

You smiled, and looked at Dutch, he had a slightly worried look on his face.

"Thank you," you whispered, "its beautiful!"

His hand touched your face, his thumb gentle caressing your cheek, "just like you," he purred, as he gently kissed you on the forehead.


	13. Chapter 13

You looked again at the gun in your hand.

"Will you teach me to shoot it? I mean properly?" You asked, tilting your head.

Dutch chuckled, "Well Arthur is probably a better shot than me," he admitted, "but as you ask so nicely, how can I refuse."

You held the gun out straight and closed one eye.

Dutch chuckled as he put his hand over yours, and gently lowered the gun.

"Be careful, it's already loaded. You wouldn't want to shoot anyone by accident, would you?"

You gasped, and laid the gun down on the cot. "No, I wouldn't want to do that."

Dutch picked up the gun, and sat down on the cot next to you.

"The most important thing, is not to be afraid of it, and to know you are always in control of it."

You nodded. Dutch handed the gun back to you. You took it, making sure to point it towards the ground.

Dutch smiled, "there you go, always remember you are in control of the gun, the gun isn't in control of you."

You smiled, "I still think it's beautiful."

"Well, when you're able to ride, I'll take you into Rhodes, and buy you a holster to put it in." Dutch promised.

Dutch glanced up, hearing his name being called.

"Dutch!" Micah yelled, "we need to talk. You need to see this." He waved a newspaper in the air.

Dutch stood up and walked to meet Micah, a few yards away from the tent.

"What's the urgency," Dutch growled at Micah, glancing back over his shoulder, he looked at you and smiled.

Micah stared into the tent at you, distracted from his discussion with Dutch.

He lowered his voice, "have you fucked her yet?" he smirked.

"Micah, enough," Dutch growled, his face flushing with anger.

Micah laughed, "you haven't, have you. What's wrong with you? I would have fucked her so hard she screamed, that's the best way with a virgin ya know."

Dutch stared at Micah, and balled his fists. Unable to contain his anger, he lashed out. Punching Micah in the face, his rings, cutting into Micah's cheek before he hit the floor.

"You go anywhere near her, you filthy bastard, and I swear I'll kill you," Dutch snarled.

Micah quickly picked himself up off the ground, glaring at Dutch.

"No one punches Micah Bell, No one!" he hissed, as he drew his gun, and pointed it at Dutch.

You had watched this from the tent, hearing Micah's words had made you feel sick. When you saw him draw his gun, and threaten Dutch, you knew what you had to do.

Your heart was beating so hard, it felt like a herd of mustangs was galloping through your chest.

With your gun, still in your hand, you climbed off the cot. Adrenaline surging through your body, you ignored the pain that ripped through your side.

By the time Micah stood up with the gun, he had his back towards Dutch's tent.

You raised the gun, pointed it at his back, and pulled the trigger.

Dutch, who heard the gunshot, was surprised that he didn't have a bullet in his chest. Micah was even more surprised. Realising he had been shot in the back, he turned round.

You had thought with one shot, he would have fallen, but this wasn't the case. When he turned to face you, he pointed his gun at you, a look of disbelief on his face. You pulled the trigger, twice more, before collapsing to your knees. You gripped your side, pointing the gun straight ahead. Watching as Micah fell to the floor face down. Your breath started to come in short gasps, as the adrenaline, dissipated from your system, and the pain returned

Unlike the first time, when you shot the O'Driscoll you didn't keep pulling the trigger. Just as well for you, as you carried on pointing the gun, at the place where Micah had been standing. Only now the gun was aimed at Dutch, as you stared blankly ahead of you.

Dutch stood there staring, his arms still slightly raised.

You heard the click of a hammer being pulled back, "Don't do anything stupid, Princess!" Arthur warned you as he pointed his gun at your head.

Susan walked towards the tent, her shotgun aimed directly at you.

"Wait!" Dutch yelled, "everyone just calm down!"

He stepped over Micah's body, staring at you, the gun still aimed at him. Then realisation must have dawned on him, and he moved to the left of you.

Your gun didn't move, now pointing at an empty space in the camp, where Micah had been standing.

"Arthur, Susan, put your guns away," he ordered.

Arthur released the hammer, and holstered his gun. Susan leant her shotgun against a nearby crate.

As Dutch walked over to you, he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, then returned it to his pocket.

He knelt down beside you, gently putting his hands on yours. Your knuckle was white, where you were gripping the gun so tightly.

"Here sweetheart, let me take that," he whispered.

You released your grip, and looked at Dutch.

Your breath now coming in shallow gasps. Partly due to the pain, partly due to shock.

"Is...is he...dead," you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, and smiled, "It's OK," he soothed, "I think he probably is."

Susan came rushing over, "is she alright," she gasped.

Dutch nodded, "Susan, can you go and find Hosea, we need to check her wound."

He glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, "Can you get rid of him somewhere," he nodded towards Micah's body.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," Arthur smirked.

Dutch turned his attention back to you.

"Don't worry, Blair, everything is gonna be OK," Dutch soothed, as he picked you up.

He carried you over to the cot, and lay you down gently, then sat beside you.

You looked at Dutch, as he gazed at you. "I'm not sorry! Does that make me a bad person?" you asked.

Dutch smiled, and stroked your face. "No, sweetheart, you probably saved my life. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't realise what sort of person Micah was."

"I don't want you to die, Dutch." you blurted, tears pooling in your eyes.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, pressing your head into his chest. He stroked your hair, soothing you.

"I'm not gonna die, don't you worry, sweetness," he soothed, kissing the top of your head.

He held you like this, until Hosea arrived.

"I think she may have pulled her stitches, Hosea," he whispered, as he gently lowered you back to the cot.

Hosea nodded, "I'll take a look, in the meantime, you need to look at this," he passed Dutch the newspaper, that Micah had been holding.

Hosea removed your shirt, and then removed the bandages. You winced slightly, as he prodded and poked.

Hosea frowned at you, "You're a very lucky young lady, you've pulled a few stitches but you're a quick healer. I'm going to remove the rest of the stitches, then you just need to rest for a few days."

"Why does it hurt so much," you groaned.

"The muscles are still damaged on the inside, that's why it hurts when you move," Hosea explained. "The outside, heals quickly, the inside will take a lot longer." he added.

You looked down at your side, you would have a scar. At the moment, your side was still black and blue from the bruising.

Hosea picked up the spent bandages, and walked towards the door. He stopped just before leaving.

"Have you read it, Dutch?" he asked.

Dutch nodded, "I think me and Blair, need to have a little chat!"

Dutch walked over to the cot, he wasn't smiling, which made you a little nervous.

"Did I do something wrong?" you asked, nervously.

Dutch sat on the edge of the cot, "I don't know Blair, did you? I don't think you've been completely honest with me, have you?" he growled.

"I...I don't understand!" You stuttered.

Dutch scowled, and threw the newspaper down on the cot.

You looked at the front page. There was a photograph of you. It was an old one, but definitely you.

Your name was printed beneath it.

You frowned, "I don't understand, why is my picture in the paper?"

Dutch narrowed his eyes and looked at you, "You really don't know, do you?"

You stared at the paper, then back at Dutch. Your eyes wide, struggling to understand.

"Please, Dutch. What's going on? You're scaring me," you gasped, you voice shaking.


	14. Chapter 14

Dutch turned away from you and walked across the other side of the tent.

When he turned to look at you, his arms were folded across his chest.

"I'm not buying this little girl lost act, Blair. Are you gonna tell me what's going on, and why there's a $25,000 reward for bringing you in alive. If you'd committed some crime, they wouldn't care if you were dead or alive, but they want you alive, why?"

You stared at Dutch, and your eyes narrowed. "Are you gonna turn me in?" You asked.

Dutch sighed, "no... I don't know, you better tell me what's going on, Blair?"

You stared at Dutch, then you glanced at the gun, that lay on the cot, where Dutch had left it.

Dutch saw your eyes flick to the gun, so he dashed towards the cot.

There was no way he could have made it to the gun before you.

You grabbed it, as you did he stopped dead in his tracks, and raised his arms.

"Now don't be silly, Blair. Just put the gun down, let's talk about this." he coaxed.

The surprise on his face was unmistakable, when you pointed the gun at your own head.

"I'm not going back, I'll kill myself first," you warned.

Dutch lowered his hands, and took a step back, "Blair, stop, no one's sending you anywhere," he stated, his voice breaking in panic.

"I'd actually started to trust you Dutch Van Der Linde, I should have known better than to trust a man, they always let you down!"

Dutch shook his head, "what are you talking about, please Blair, just tell me."

"My grandfather, my father, Micah if I hadn't killed him and now you, all ready to sell me to the highest bidder," you hissed. "But I should thank you, for this," you raised the gun slightly. "At least now I have a way out."

"Blair, I would never have sold you out, why do you doubt me now! Just explain it to me."

Your mouth felt dry, despite your bluster, you weren't even sure you could pull the trigger.

"When I'm eighteen, I will come into money, but my grandfather has already decided to marry me off as part of a business deal, $25,000 is a drop in the ocean for him and his business partner. My mother was my only protection, with her gone, I had no alternative but to run." you sighed, "imagine my horror when the person who killed my mama, found me. She knew I'd seen her. When she dragged me back to my daddy's ranch in the mountains, they had planned to claim the reward, and leave for Europe, until the storm snowed them in. Sadie told the truth, when she screamed out I had left her. I stole my daddy's gun, when I saw the O'Driscolls coming, saw them shoot my daddy. I hoped they would shoot her too. My grandfather knew, they had killed my mama, he told them, if they left, and forgot about me and my trust fund, then nobody would need to know. With my daddy gone, she knew she needed to kill me to keep that secret. She hadn't planned for me to show up. I hadn't planned for the pair of them to find me!"

"Blair, sweetheart. I can understand why you don't trust anyone, but I...we care about you, just put the gun down." Dutch took a tentative step towards you.

You immediately cocked the hammer, just like you had seen Arthur do.

Dutch stopped instantly. You kept your eyes glued to him.

"I'll either walk out of here, or you'll bury me," you threatened.

You were so focussed on Dutch, you didn't see Arthur looking in the opposite door of the tent. Dutch had mentioned how good a shot Arthur was.

You were about to find out for yourself, as he fired his gun, shooting the gun you held, out of your hand. As soon as he did, Dutch ran over. He wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms at your side.

"Arthur, find Hosea, we need something to knock her out." Dutch yelled.

You screamed, "No, you bastard. Let me go." you struggled, but Dutch held you too tightly.

"Blair, listen to me. I'm doing this for you, this is for your own good," he whispered.

Within a few moments, Arthur came back with Hosea. He had a small bottle in his hand.

"You sure about this, Dutch." Hosea asked.

Dutch nodded, "it's the only way, I don't want her to hurt herself."

Hosea walked over. When you saw the bottle in his hand, you didn't know whether to plead, or clamp your mouth shut. You prompted for the latter. However, a quick pinch to your nose, and you opened your mouth gasping for breath. He quickly tipped the contents of the bottle into your mouth, clamping it closed until you swallowed.

Within moments your head started to spin, and your eyelids grew heavy'

"Please, don't do this," you begged, as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Your head was throbbing, but at least you were awake. You squinted, but immediately closed your eyes. The daylight seemed to intensify the pain in your head.

You didn't need to open your eyes, to know that you were tied up. Your wrists were tied together, behind your back, and your ankles were also tied together. You tried to move your wrists, but it only made the rope chafe at your skin. A blanket covered you, but little else, as your clothes had been removed, apart from your underwear.

You squinted again, for a little longer. Realising you were still in Dutch's tent laying on the cot.

"It's ok, Blair. No one's going to hurt you," Dutch whispered.

He put a his hand on your face.

As he did, you jerked your head away, "like hell it is, get off me," you growled.

Dutch took his hand away from your face, but put it behind your head. You tried to shake it off, but every movement made your head throb, even more. Besides, Dutch had laced his fingers in your hair. He tilted your head up, and put a cup to your mouth.

You clamped your mouth shut.

"C'mon Blair, it's just water. It'll help with the pain in your head. I know you have a splitting headache right now," he sympathized.

You continued to clamp your mouth closed.

Dutch sighed, "don't make me force you," he warned.

You opened your mouth, and felt the cool fluid wash over your tongue. You were relieved it was just water. So you swallowed it.

That didn't mean you trusted him, or wanted him anywhere near you.

Dutch lowered your head back down and removed his hand from the back of your head.

As soon as he did, you turned your head away from him.  
"Blair, look at me!" He commanded.  
You ignored him, instead you stared at the canvas of the tent.  
"What do I need to do to make you believe that I won't send you back?" He asked.  
You turned your head to look at him.  
"You could start by untying me!" You hissed.  
Dutch shook his head, "not until I'm sure that you won't try to hurt yourself or run." He insisted.  
You scowled at him, and turned your head away once again.  
Dutch pulled back the blanket, and placed his hand on your stomach. Gently caressing the smooth skin. You trembled, then your back arched, as you moaned as every nerve tingled in your body.  
"Stop! You groaned, as you turned your head to look at him.

"No, I won't," he retorted, "If this is what it takes for you to know how much I care about you, then I'll carry on."  
His other hand gripped your neck, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek. Then his lips crashed against yours.  
His hand gently slid from your stomach to your thigh, his fingers kneading the bare flesh. Another wave of pleasure coursed through your body, as heat coiled in the pit of your stomach, making you gasp. As you did, his tongue penetrated your mouth, darting across your own. You had no choice but to surrender as your body, once again betrayed you. The movement of his lips, his tongue and his hands melted away any resistance. Besides, with your arms tied behind your back there was little you could do.  
As your lips parted, he gently grazed his teeth across your bottom lip.  
"I care for you Blair, a great deal. I haven't felt this way about anyone since... well, for a long time," Dutch admitted.  
"Please, Dutch," you begged. "Untie me! I won't do anything, I promise."  
Dutch gently stroked your forehead  
"Soon Blair. I just need to be sure," he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.  
He ran his hands gently down your shoulders. You closed your eyes, and felt his lips on your stomach, sending a shudder through your body, and heat to your core. Another moan escaped your lips.  
"You're so beautiful. You're worth more to me than all the money in the five states!" He purred.  
You closed your eyes and sighed. If that was truly the case you wondered if he would ever untie you. But perhaps being Dutch's captive was better than being sold off by your grandfather.

You felt strangely empty, when his hands and lips left your body, and he covered you back up with the blanket. You watched as he left the tent. Wondering where he was going, and when he would be back. You still weren't one hundred percent sure, what he would do. He was an outlaw after all, and it was still a lot of money, your grandfather was offering.

You closed your eyes, not really expecting to get any sleep, given the uncomfortable position you were in.

When you heard the tent flap open, you opened your eyes.

You were surprised to see Arthur standing there.

He slowly crossed to the cot, "well, well our little princess is finally awake, I wonder what Dutch is going to do with you now?" he chuckled.

You frowned, "What do you mean?"

Arthur shrugged, "you're worth a lot of money, Princess. I know he likes you, but he also likes money!"

You panicked, struggling against the unyielding ropes, "he said he wouldn't send me back," you sputtered.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Dutch says a lot of things, he said we were heading west, yet here we are!"

"Please Arthur," you begged, "untie me!"

Arthur hummed, and pulled back the blanket. He gazed at your semi naked body, and licked his lips.

"What's in it for me, if I untie you princess?" he taunted.

You looked at Arthur, you mouth suddenly dry. "What do you want?" you gulped.

Arthur licked his lips again, and gently ran his hands down your sides, caressing the bare skin with his calloused fingers. When he reached your knickers, he inserted his thumbs in the top of them. He made eye contact with you.

"How about, you princess. I'll have you?" he purred.

You swallowed, "but...I," you stuttered.

He dragged his top teeth across his bottom lip. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy our little kiss in the cabin, its about time you tasted the pleasures of the flesh, or I tasted the pleasures of your flesh," he smirked.

Arthur lowered his head, and swirl his tongue around your belly button.

You whimpered, "Please Arthur, don't."

Arthur lifted his head, and smirked. "It's not like your in much of a position to stop me, princess!"


	15. Chapter 15

You lay on the cot, staring at Arthur. Was he really going to do this to you. You struggled against the ropes, trying to move away from him.

Arthur looked at you and chuckled, "be a good girl now," he purred.

You screamed, louder than you had ever screamed before.

It took Arthur slightly by surprise. You'd seen what Dutch had done, when Micah had threatened to do what Arthur was currently contemplating.

You could only hope, Dutch was in earshot.

Arthur immediately clamped his hand over your mouth, which muffled your scream.

"That was a very silly thing to do, princess," he snarled, "you're gonna be sorry, for that!"

Your guardian angel, whoever that was, must have been looking over your shoulder. Because although Dutch wasn't in earshot, someone else was.

Susan Grimshaw came running into the tent, when she heard you scream.

"Mr Morgan, what the hell do you think you're doing," she hissed.

Arthur snapped his head round. "She was trying to escape," he explained.

You tried to talk, to tell Susan that Arthur was lying. But his hand still covered your mouth, muffling anything you tried to say.

Susan folded her arms and stared at Arthur, "get out of here, right this minute," she shouted.

Arthur glared at you, "say anything, and I'll come back and slit your throat," he growled in your ear, so that only you could hear.

Arthur stood up, and looked at Susan, "she's a sly one, that," he said, motioning towards you with his head. "I wouldn't believe a word she says!"

He walked past Susan and out of the tent.

A tear escaped your eye, and you turned your head to the wall of the tent.

Susan walked over, and covered you with the blanket.

"Your trembling, Blair. What happened, what was Arthur doing?" she asked, concerned.

You just shook your head, and kept your face, turned to the canvas. You couldn't, however, stop a sob escaping your lips.

Susan sat on the edge of the cot, and put a hand on your shoulder. You flinched, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Any trust that you had in the people surrounding you, had completely evaporated.

Despite being tied up, you managed to roll yourself onto your side, and bring your knees into your chest. Another sob escaped from your lips, and you buried your head in your chest.

You felt the cot rise, as Susan stood up, then you heard the tent flap close, as she left you alone.

You heard, voices outside, but you couldn't make out what they were saying. You recognised them though. They belonged to Susan, and Hosea.

You lay there on the cot, sobbing silently for some time. The only relief you had, was that Arthur hadn't come back. But then neither had anyone else.

As the sun started to set, the tent became darker. The darker it became, the more fearful you were that Arthur would come back.

When you heard the tent flap open, you screwed your eyes closed, and a whimper escaped from your lips.

"Is this her?"

It was a man's voice, but you didn't recognise it.

You felt someone sit on the edge of the cot, as they touched your shoulder you flinched. Even though it was a touch you recognised.

"Blair, your trembling, whatever is the matter?" Dutch asked, concern on his face.

"Pl...Please don't..." you whimpered.

"You might want to get the poor child some clothes, Dutch," the strange man said.

You heard the tent flap open again.

"Dutch, can I have a word," Susan requested.

Dutch stood up, and walked away from the cot. You heard Susan talking to him in a hushed whisper.

"Where the fucking hell is he," Dutch growled, anger in his voice.

Susan said something, but you couldn't quite make out.

Dutch rushed back over to the cot, he grabbed your ankles. As he did you started to sob.

"P...Please...No..." you begged.

Then you felt the knife slice through the rope around your ankles.

You felt Dutch put his hand on your shoulder again, as he shushed you. You flinched again.

"Its ok Blair, I'm here now, no one's going to hurt you, I promise," he whispered, as he cut the ropes on your wrists.

As your arms became free, you brought them round to the front of you, wrapping them around your knees as your curled yourself into a ball, and sobbed into your chest.

"Josiah, can we discuss this in the morning, I doubt Arthur will be back tonight, if he knows what's good for him, so you can use his tent. If you need anything, speak to Hosea." Dutch suggested.

"Of course, but I'll need to talk to her, if we're going to get to the bottom of this," Josiah replied.

Dutch nodded, "right now I need to sort out this mess!" he sighed.

You heard the tent flap closed, but you stayed in the exact same position. Even though you had heard that Arthur wasn't around, you just wanted this nightmare to end.

"Blair, sweetheart, I'm sorry. If I'd known what Arthur was gonna try, I would never have left you here alone." Dutch whispered.

When he got no response, you heard him pick something up from the table.

You tensed, not sure what he was doing. Then he started reading, out loud.

His voice was deep and soothing, you recognised the words he was reading. From the book that Susan had given you to read. Jane Eyre. He'd said he would read it to you, but you never imagined it would be under these circumstances.

You started to relax slightly, unwrapping your arms from your legs.

Dutch stopped reading for a moment.

"How about I find you a shirt, to put on," he whispered.

You nodded, and whimpered an acknowledgement.

You felt Dutch move from the cot, and then return a few moments later.

"Come here, then," he whispered.

You sat up, swallowing hard, arms still wrapped around your body, you turned to face him.

He bit his bottom lip, when he saw your tear stained face, your hair dishevelled, hanging over your face.

"I'm so sorry, Blair," He whispered, sadness clouded his face.

Dutch held the shirt up, waiting for you to put an arm in the sleeve.

You gingerly poked your arm into the sleeve of the shirt, then he gently put it over your back, allowing you to put your other arm in the sleeve.

Dutch slowly buttoned up the shirt, you looked at him, trying not to flinch away. Your breathing shallow.

Once he had buttoned up the shirt, he gently brushed the hair from your face.

"There, that's better," he soothed. He patted his lap, "lay your head down here, and I'll read to you," He placed a pillow on his lap.

You looked at him suspiciously, but lay your head down. Holding your arms across your chest.

Dutch started to read again. As he did, you relaxed slightly. The more he read, the more relaxed you became. A few times you closed your eyes.

When he came to the end of the next page, he stopped and put down the book.

"Why don't you close your eyes, and try to sleep." he gently stroked your hair. At first you tensed up, then you spoke.

"Who is that man?" you asked.

Dutch smiled, "an old friend, Josiah Trelawny, he's here to help you."

"Arthur said..." you started, but were quickly interrupted.

"Don't you worry about Arthur, I'll deal with him. He wont hurt you again, I promise you that," Dutch whispered, his voice tinged with anger.

"You won't...shoot him, will you?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Dutch stroked your face, this time you didn't flinch away.

"Probably not, but if he tries anything else, I most likely will." Dutch replied, but only if you want me to.

You gently shook your head, "I just don't want him to touch me again."

"No one is going to touch you again, Blair. Not Arthur, not your grandfather, and definitely not his business associate." He gently kissed you on the top of your head. "No one will touch you, except me, and then only if you want me to." He concluded.

Dutch grabbed the blanket, and gently covered you with it.

"Now do you think you can go to sleep?" he asked.

You nodded, and closed your eyes.

"Don't worry, Blair, I'll be here all-night, and when you wake up in the morning." Dutch whispered.

You wondered, if Arthur had lied, so he could get what he wanted, or if Dutch was lying so he could get what he wanted. At least now you were untied.

Right now you had no idea who was telling the truth and who was lying. You just hoped the stranger wasn't anything to do with your grandfather. You'd got away from him once, you doubted you'd be able to do it a second time.


	16. Chapter 16

Despite all the worries running through your brain, when you closed your eyes, with your head resting on Dutch's lap you felt safe. Safe from Arthur, safe from Sadie, and most importantly safe from your grandfather.

But, as ever your sleep was plagued by nightmares. Not really surprising considering what had happened lately.

You screeched at the top of your voice "No!"

You woke up, panting, you heart almost beating out of your chest. Your held your hands to your chest in a vain attempt to get your breath back.

Dutch who had been standing by the open flap of his tent, smoking a cigar. Threw it to the floor, grinding it into the ground with his boot.

He ran over to the cot, where you were sitting, beads of sweat running down your face.

He sat next to you, and tentatively wrapped his arm around you. When you didn't flinch your pull away. He pulled you into him.

"hush now, it's OK. It was just a bad dream," he soothed.

You instinctively flung your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. Feeling the need to cling to something. As you did, he rubbed your back.

After a few moments, you let go, and sat up straight.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your face flushed, your breathing starting to return to normal. Your heart beat had slowed, but hadn't returned to normal. Nothing to do with the dream, it always beat a little faster when you were close to Dutch. You hadn't quite figured out why.

Dutch stroked your face with his hand, "No need to be sorry," he whispered.

You slowly pulled away from him, and he let you go.

He stood up and walked across the tent, picking up your trousers.

"Here, you should put these on," he suggested, laying the jeans on the cot, "then I'll take you outside and introduce you to Josiah," he added, walking towards the doorway.

You looked towards the door. "Could...I mean...Can he come in, I don't want to go outside," you stammered.

Dutch turned around, and walked back to you where you sat. Your hands were gripping the edge of the cot, as though it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Gripping so tight, your knuckles were white.

You looked at Dutch with pleading eyes.

Dutch took your hands, gently rubbing the tops with his thumbs. "I thought you liked it outside, Blair. Tell me what's the matter," he asked, gently.

You looked down at the floor, "I...I'm scared," you stuttered.

Dutch gently took hold of your chin, with his fingers, tilting it up, so you were looking at him.

"There's nothing to be scared of, I won't leave your side, Blair. I promise."

"He said he'd slit my throat," you blurted, a tear trickled down your cheek.

"No one is gonna slit anything," Dutch snapped, angrily. He smiled, as the anger slipped from his face. He gently cupped your face in his hand, wiping your tear away with his thumb.

"I promise Blair, I won't let anyone hurt you, do you believe me?" he asked, and intent look in his eyes.

"yes," you whispered. You pressed your face into his hand, his touch making you feel safe.

Dutch leant in, and pressed his lips to yours, in a gentle kiss.

"Now," he said, as he stood up straight, "get ready, and you can meet Josiah."

You pulled on your jeans, and Dutch passed you your boots. Dutch wrapped his arm around your waist. It was the first time, you had walked without collapsing, since you had been stabbed. There was a dull ache in your side, where the muscles were still repairing. But none of the pain you had been in before.

You both walked over to the table, where Josiah was sitting with Hosea. After overcoming your nerves, you started to enjoy the fresh air.

You sat at the table, whilst Dutch stood next to you, his arm around you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

"Josiah," he started, "This is Blair, Blair Adler."

Josiah stood up, and offered you his hand, as you reached out to shake his hand he balled it into a fist, before turning it over and opening it, palm upwards. As he did a small yellow bird flew out of it.

You gasped, then giggled. "how did you do that," you asked, smiling.

"My, what a pretty smile you have. Josiah Trelawny, at your service, miss." Josiah bowed with a flourish, removing his top hat and then replacing it.

Dutch laughed, then kissed the top of your head, "If we achieve nothing today, at least we've made you smile and laugh."

You looked up at Dutch, and smiled.

"He's right though, you have a lovely smile," Dutch added.

Hosea rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't we be getting down to business?"

The smile faded from your face.

Josiah winked at you, "trust old grumpy Mr Matthews to ruin a good time," he quipped.

Josiah removed his hat and placed it on the table, before retaking his seat.

"Now Blair, I need to ask you a few questions,"Josiah said, a serious look on his face.

You nodded, "ok," you replied, glancing at Dutch for reassurance.

You felt Dutch give you shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"So," Josiah started, "What's your grandfathers name, and do you know who the businessman is, who he wants to marry you off to?"

You licked your lips, your mouth felt suddenly dry, as if the mention of his name, would somehow call him.

"My Grandfather, is Oliver McMahon," you whispered.

Josiah raised his eyebrows, "Ahh, is he indeed."

Dutch frowned, "have you heard of him?" he asked, glancing at Josiah.

Josiah nodded, "I have, a particularly unpleasant character, if you dont mind me saying."

"And what about the businessman?" he asked.

You shook your head, "I don't know his name, but it was something to do with oil." you concluded.

Dutch looked at Hosea, "Leviticus Cornwall," they said, simultaneously.

Josiah hummed, "an oilman, and a landowner, sounds like a match made in hell!"

"Leviticus Cornwall doesn't like us much anyway," Hosea concluded, "not after robbing his train. If he thinks we've got his bride to be, he's going to be even less impressed."

"Blair ain't gonna be anyone's bride, unless she chooses to be," Dutch huffed.

Josiah nodded, "quite so, now we get down to the nitty gritty. The distasteful subject of money." Josiah hesitated, "Blair, my dear. Have you any idea of how much you're worth?"

You looked at Josiah, and shrugged, "my mama told me once it was a lot, but not how much," you replied.

You glanced up at Dutch, "does it matter?"

Dutch shook his head, "No, Blair, not at all."

Josiah stood up, "very well, gentlemen," he picked up his hat, "I will see you anon."

He looked at you, and smiled. "These gentlemen, maybe outlaws, Blair. But they will keep you safe, until I can put paid to your grandfathers schemes."

He raised his hat, and bowed with a flourish. He turned and headed towards where the horses were hitched.

"What will he do?" you asked, curiously.

Hosea chuckled, "With Mr Trelawny, it's anyone's guess, but he usually comes up with something!"

Hosea stood up, "I better get on. I'm meeting Arthur over at the Braithwaite's this morning, I'll be taking Sean with me, as well. Lets hope I can keep the fool out of trouble."

You stiffened at the mention of Arthurs name.

Dutch nodded, "Sean's a good boy, which is more than can be said of Arthur right now."

Hosea rolled his eyes, "I'll tell Arthur to keep out of your way, for a bit longer."

Dutch hummed, "probably wise." he hesitated, "Now Blair, what say you and I take a trip into Rhodes, I think I promised you a holster, didn't I?"

You looked a little surprised, "You're going to let me have the gun back?" you questioned.

Dutch smiled as he helped you to your feet. "It's all a matter of trust, Blair. I trust you, not to try and kill yourself. You must trust me to look after you. Do you trust me, to do that Blair?"

You nodded, "I trust you," you whispered.

Dutch held out his hand, and you took it. He gently pulled you to your feet.

"Lets take it nice and slow," he whispered, hooking his arm around yours.

You both walked slowly to the horses. The last time you had been here, was when Kieran had stabbed you, and The Count, well he had pretty much saved your life.

As you walked over to The Count, he nudged you, and knickered.

Dutch chuckled, "Strange, I think he has a soft spot for you."

He gently lifted you up onto the horse, then mounted up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, gently pulling you into his chest. His hand resting on your stomach.

"Ok?" he whispered in your ear, his breath causing goose bumps on your neck.

You nodded, and smiled, "yes," you whispered.

Dutch gently turned his horse, and headed down the track, towards Rhodes.

The warmth of his chest on your back, and his arm wrapped around you, making you feel safe.

At least for now.


	17. Chapter 17

The distance from the camp at Clemens Point to Rhodes was only short. But for you the time it took seemed like an eternity. Throughout the ride, Dutch wrapped his arm around you and every so often his hand would stroke your stomach through the flimsy material of your shirt, making you tremble. You didn't know how, but Dutch seemed to know the difference between your trembling with fear and trembling with pleasure. This was definitely the latter. He could also tell when your heart was racing. This was his favourite torment, or so it seemed to you.  
"Blair my dear, your little heart is racing, what's the matter?" Dutch whispered in your ear, his face gently touching your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.  
"I...I don't kn...know," you stuttered.  
Dutch chuckled "maybe this will help," he said, as he kissed your neck.  
Your heart beat faster, as he hit your sweet spot. Your whole body tingled, you squirmed and your back arched. A moan escaped from your lips.  
"Careful my sweet, we wouldn't want you to fall." He chuckled, as he moved his hand up and placed it between your breasts, pressing you closer, if that were possible. You felt the coil starting to build in your stomach again. You were pretty sure Dutch knew exactly what he was doing. You would have said something, but all you could manage was a moan, and you couldn't seem to string a sentence together.  
You were thankful when the town of Rhodes came into sight. It was pretty with lots of people milling around. You hoped they hadn't noticed how flushed your face was. You made a mental note, that next time he offered to take you somewhere you would take your own horse.  
Dutch headed for the Gunsmith. Once he"d hitched his horse, he placed his hand on your waist and gently lifted you down.

Dutch smirked, "you look a little red in the face, is everything alright?"

You bit your bottom lip, "why do you do it...make me squirm and tingle. I know you know what you're doing to me?" You huffed.

Dutch put his arm around you, pressing his hand to your waist. Your breath hitched slightly, as you felt your face heating up again.

"You mean like that," he whispered. "Because despite all your protestations, I know you like it. It feels good, doesn't it?"

You stared at him and blinked.

"And because," he added, "when you look at me like that, you drive me a little bit crazy," he purred.

You took a deep breath, and looked down. "That's what Arthur said, then he..." you let the sentence trail off.

Dutch turned to face you, and cupped your cheek in his hand.

"I would never do anything like that, and I honestly don't know what came over Arthur. Hosea and I, didn't bring him up like that."

You looked into Dutch's eyes, and he gazed back into yours.

"I care for you Blair, and I only do the things I do, because I know deep down it makes you feel good. You're growing into a fine young woman."

You felt your face heat again, and the hint of a smile, fell across your face.

"Now, I promised you a holster, and I also have another gift for you." he added.

You grinned, "another gift, what is it?" you asked, excitement in your voice.

Dutch chuckled, "if I told you it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it."

Dutch put his arm around you once again, this time you relaxed at his touch, as you walked into the gunsmiths.

As you approached the counter, the gunsmith beamed at Dutch.

"Is it ready?" Dutch asked the gunsmith.

The gunsmith reached under the counter and pulled out a holster, on a belt and put it on the counter.

Dutch picked it up, and smiled at you, "shall I help you put it on?"

You smiled and nodded.

Dutch reached round behind you, and threaded the belt through the loops on your jeans, then buckled it at the front.

You looked at the holster. It was black leather, your initials 'B.A.' were embossed into the leather.

Dutch reached into his pocket, and pulled out your gun. You thought it was still at camp.

You grinned, as he put the gun in the holster for you.

"Thank you, Dutch is lovely," you beamed.

Dutch cupped your face in his hand, "You're very welcome," he purred, as his lips pressed against yours, you kissed him back.

The gunsmith cleared his throat.

Dutch moved away, and chuckled. You felt your face heating up again.

The gunsmith, placed another small box on the counter.

"Ahh," Dutch exclaimed, "I almost forgot!"

You walked over to look at the box, but Dutch quickly put it in his pocket.

"Tsk tsk, patience, Blair." he scolded. "C'mon, let's go over to the saloon, then I can show you."

Dutch put his arm around you, and you walked outside with him, and headed over to the Rhodes parlour house.

It seemed very posh to you for a saloon, there were a number of small little booths around the edge of the main saloon, as well as tables in the middle.

Dutch guided you to one of the booths and you sat, whilst Dutch went over to the bar to get some drinks.

You hadn't really drunk anything alcoholic. It wasn't something your parents encouraged.

When he put the drinks down, you sniffed the contents of the glass.

Dutch chuckled. "It's not poisonous, and it'll relax you."

"What is it?" you asked, curiously.

Dutch took a swallow of his drink, "It's brandy, try it!" He suggested.

You took a sip, you coughed at the initial burn on the back of your throat, but the taste was quite pleasant. You took another swallow. This time, you hardly noticed the burn.

You went to take another swallow, but Dutch put his hand on yours and lowered the glass.

"Just take it steady," he warned.

You smiled, and put the glass on the table, "why?" you asked.

"Because I don't want you to get drunk, at least not until you've answered a question!" He smirked.

Your face flushed slightly, "what question?"

Dutch put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out the small box he had collected from the gunsmith.

He opened the lid.

You were surprised to see your silver locket inside, you looked at him, then at the silver locket. As you went to reach for the box, he closed it.

You frowned, "It's mine!" you exclaimed.

"I don't think so, Blair. You threw it away," he hesitated. "Do you want it back?" he questioned, smirking.

You sighed, "you know I do."

Dutch hummed. "Well, maybe you can do something for me first." he suggested.

You narrowed your eyes, "what?"

Dutch smiled, "I want to draw you..." he hesitated, and leaned across the table towards you, "Naked," he whispered.

Your face flushed, and you quickly took a swallow of the brandy.

"Then I get my locket back?" you asked, your voice shaking.

Dutch nodded, "of course."

"Just draw me, nothing else?" you confirmed.

Dutch frowned, "I thought you said you trusted me?"

You took a deep breath, "I...I do trust you," you stuttered. Trying to convince yourself.

Dutch hummed, "perhaps we should just leave it. Let's head back," he concluded, standing up.

You looked at him, and finished the brandy in the glass. "No, I'll let you draw me," you sighed.

Dutch stroked your cheek with his hand, "only if you're sure, Blair?"

You nodded, "I'm sure."

Dutch smiled, and took your hand. As he did, he nodded to the barkeep, who placed a key on the bar.

As you both approached the bar, Dutch picked up the key.

"Room 2a," the barkeep smirked.

Dutch put the key in his pocket, and wrapped his arm around your waist. You felt yourself tremble slightly, but if Dutch had noticed, he ignored it.

You both walked up the stairs. At the top you turned left until you reached a door with '2A' in brass digits on the door.

Dutch put the key in the lock and turned it. He opened the door, and gently shepherded you in first.

Following you in, he closed the door and locked it.

You felt the colour drain from your face, as he turned to face you.

He smiled, "we don't want to be disturbed, do we Blair?" he purred.

You stared at him, frozen to the spot.

Dutch walked over to where you were standing. He gently took your chin in his hand, and tilted it upwards, so that you were looking him in the eye.

"Don't be nervous, Blair. You trust me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Dutch kissed you on the forehead.

He looked you in the eye as he started to unbuckle, your gun belt. You stood there whilst he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, and slid it gently from your shoulders.

His hands rested on your bare shoulders, you were surprised how warm they were. Instead of making you feel nervous, it seemed to relax you. He gently ran his hands from your shoulders down your arms.

"You are truly beautiful, Blair," he whispered in your ear. He gently kissed your shoulder blades, which made you gasp, as a tingle ran through your body.

"Take off your boots," he whispered.

You immediately did as he asked. As soon as you had removed your boots, he started to unbutton your jeans. He gently pulled them down, his hands gently grazing your thighs, until they were pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of them, leaving you in just your underwear.

You suddenly felt very self conscious. Not that Dutch hadn't seen you in just your underwear before. But this was different. Your face flushed and you looked at the ground.

Dutch took a step back, gazing at you.

"Come here," he whispered.

You gingerly took a step towards him.

"Turn around," he commanded, in a whisper.

You did as he asked, now standing with your back to him.

When his hands touched your waist, you gasped. His hands slid down to the to top of your knickers, and he slowly pulled them down. His hands slowly dragging down the outside of your thighs once again, and down your calves

You whimpered, as your senses went into overload.

Dutch stood upright and rested his hands on your shoulder, as he hushed you gently, and kissed the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

His fingers swiftly moved to the clasp on your bra, quickly releasing it, he removed your bra.

He ran his hands down your back, until they reached the cheeks of your bottom, he squeezed them gently.

"What I wouldn't give to lay my hands on these," he purred.

You gasped, as you did he gave one of the cheeks as gently smack. You jumped slightly, and clenched your bottom.

"Go and lay on the bed," he smirked, "Then lay on your side, and face me." he added.

You did as he asked. When you looked over to where he was, he was sitting in a chair, with a sketchpad in his hand, gazing at you.

He smiled, "just relax, this may take a while."


	18. Chapter 18

You lay on the bed for what seemed like an eternity. Every so often, Dutch would glance at you and smile, then return to his sketchpad, the pencil scratching across the paper.

Eventually, the light that came into the room from the window, started to fade, as the sun started to set.

Dutch stopped drawing, and lay his sketchpad on the table.

"Can I see?" You asked, looking towards him.

Dutch stood up and removed his jacket, and hung it on the hook on the back of the door.

He looked at you and smiled, "It's not finished yet, but I should be able to draw the rest from memory."

You watched as Dutch pulled the small box from the pocket of his coat. He walked across the room, and placed it on the table next to the bed.

Your focus switched from Dutch to the box.

"Can I have it now," you whispered.

Dutch chuckled, "Patience Blair, all in good time."

You looked back at Dutch, you gasped. You weren't sure how long you had been staring at the box, but his waistcoat and shirt were now folded on the chair. You watched as he removed his gun belt. After placing it on the chair, he walked over to the bed.

"Wh... What are you doing?" you stuttered.

"It's too late to ride back tonight, we might as well stay here. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before, is it?" Dutch smirked.

Of course, this was true. When you first arrived at Clemens point, you woke up in Dutch's cot. But this felt different.

Dutch sat on the edge of the bed, and held out his hands, "sit up," he requested. You took his hands, and he pulled you forward until you were sitting.

Dutch picked up the box from the table, and opened it.

He pulled out the locket, dangling it by the chain.

You looked at it, and smiled, "you fixed it!" you exclaimed.

Dutch smiled, as he placed the locket over your head, putting his hands under your hair and untucking it from the chain.

You put your hand over the heart shaped locket, and looked at him.

"Why did you do this for me?" you asked.

Dutch smiled, "sometimes, people need a little guidance, to be shown the way." He hesitated, and put his hand on your cheek. "You're a good girl, Blair. You just need to be pointed in the right direction."

He put his other hand, on your back, gently caressing the skin with his fingertips.

You felt a tingle run down your spine,

"You are so beautiful, I hope my drawing can do you justice," he whispered.

Dutch pressed his lips to yours. His kiss was gentle but firm, but as his kiss became more hungry, you found yourself kissing him back. His tongue, begged for entry, which you happily allowed. As his tongue darted across your own, you tasted the brandy from earlier. There was no fight for dominance, as your tongues tasted each other.

You pressed your hand to his chest, it felt like granite. A solid wall of muscle. If he wanted to force himself on you, he could. You wouldn't be able to stop him. But for some reason, unlike with Arthur, Dutch made you feel safe. He had asked you if you trusted him, and although you had said yes, at the time you still hadn't been quite sure. Now you were.

Dutch ended the kiss, and stood up. He slowly removed his trousers and climbed onto the bed next to you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, whilst you were sure that he wouldn't do anything, you had never seen a man naked before, also you were naked yourself.

Dutch wrapped his arms around your waist, and encouraged you to lay down. You could feel his chest on your back, his hand gently resting on your bare stomach. He peppered your neck with kisses, slowly working his way along your shoulders. His hands holding you firmly. One of his hands, slid from your stomach to the top of your thigh, his fingertips tracing circles. You moaned as all the nerves in your body tingled.

Dutch chuckled, then rested his hand on your thigh.

He gently kissed your neck one last time.

"Close your eyes," he purred. "Try and get some sleep."

You lay there for a while, thinking about what Arthur had tried, and how Dutch hadn't really tried anything.

Dutch sensed, that you weren't trying to sleep.

"What are you thinking about, princess?" he whispered in your ear.

You thought for a minute, not sure how to explain what you were thinking.

"I'm just curious, why you're such a gentleman," you replied.

Dutch chuckled, and remove his hands from your stomach.

"Turn around," he said.

You turned over so that you were facing him, your felt heat in your face, as well as in your core.

Dutch stroked your face, with his hand, "Blair, sweetheart. The things I wanna do to you. The way I want to make you moan. You have no idea," his voice almost growling.

You gasped, wondering what he meant.

He smiled, and brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "But I won't, at least not yet. You're not ready for that yet. Instead, I'll just take every opportunity to touch your beautiful body, and feel it react. To hold you and kiss you." he purred  
His lips crashed against yours as he kissed you deeply and passionately. You kissed him back. Your fingertips pressing into his chest.  
When your lips parted you smiled softly. "What if I said I was ready?" You whispered, tentatively.  
Dutch gazed at you for a moment, your eyes meeting.  
"I'd know you weren't telling the truth. You'd just be saying that to please me, wouldn't you?"

You nodded, as you blushed.

"You're a good girl, Blair. When the time comes," he hesitated, "I'll know."  
Dutch smiled and moved his hand from your face and cupped it over your breast gently squeezing it. He took your erect and sensitive nipple, between his thumb and forefinger gently squeezing and rolling it.  
The sensation was something you'd never felt before. You whimpered. As your whole body shuddered and your back arched reacting to the pleasure and the pain. Your breath coming in shallow gasps.  
Dutch moved his hand from your breast to your face, and gently stroked your cheek. "So beautiful, and so innocent," he whispered. "You need to stay that way, for a little longer." He kissed your forehead.

Dutch slipped his hand under your body, so that it was resting on your back, and pulled you closer to him. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and a burning sensation in your core. Your body trembled, as you felt his skin next to yours. You rested your head on his chest, your hand resting on his stomach.

Dutch's hand ran up and down your back, then rested on the cheek of your bottom. His fingers started to knead the flesh. You gasped.

Dutch chuckled. "You're just too fucking gorgeous." He purred as he kissed the top of your head, his hand now resting on the cheek of your bottom, every so often, just stroking it.

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his body next to yours, comforting. You soon drifted off to sleep.

Dutch looked at you and smiled. He watched your chest rise and fall. He could see the outline of your ribs. You're body was so small and petite. He gazed across your body, his eyes resting on your mound. Dutch ran his tongue over his lips. It was going to take all his self control to leave you alone, but that was one thing he was good at. He was also determined that no one else should take advantage of you. That, however, might prove a little more difficult.


	19. Chapter 19

You slept soundly all through the night. Whether it was the warmth of Dutch's body next to yours, or the fact that you were in a real bed, in a building, you weren't sure.

You would have probably carried on sleeping, but you were gently woken by Dutch.

"Blair, wake up honey, quickly, we have to leave." he whispered.

You slowly stirred, groaning slightly.

"C'mon," he urged.

You felt his warm hands on your back, gently sitting you up.

"Wh... What's going on," you moaned, still half asleep.

"Bounty hunters! Now hurry up," he warned.

Your eyes shot open, "Clothes," you mumbled.

Dutch passed you your clothes, you looked at him. He was already dressed.

Once you'd put on your underwear, he helped you on with your shirt, and trousers.

You quickly buckled on your gun belt, and slid into your boots.

Rubbing your eyes, you stood up.

Dutch already had one of his guns drawn, and he pressed his forefinger to his lips. Signalling you to be quiet.

All sorts of nightmare scenarios flashed through your mind. But one was right at the forefront. You're god-damn grandfather, and his sleazy oilman friend.

Dutch slowly opened the door of the room, and peered into the corridor outside. It was all clear for now.

You both crept into the corridor, moving as quietly as you could. Dutch didn't really want to get involved in a shoot-out, but he would if it was the only way.

As you reached the end of the corridor, Dutch held his hand up, signalling for you to stop. He peered round the corner, the curved staircase lead down to the main bar. You could hear voices.

"We're looking for this young woman, she may be alone or she may be with someone."

You wondered if the man behind the bar, was the same as the one who was on last night. If he was, he'd probably give you away, for the right amount of money. If not, then you both might be in luck.

The barkeep hummed, "don't recognise her. What's she done?"

"Nothing that concerns you," the bounty hunter grunted.

You heard the noise of a door closing.

Dutch waiting for a few moments more, before you both headed downstairs. He urged you to stay slightly back.

Dutch walked over to the barkeep. "Here, take this and you never saw us!"

He beckoned you down the stairs.

The barkeep looked at you, as you came down the stairs. He looked at Dutch.

"What did she do?" he asked.

Dutch chuckled, "She pissed off her family, but she's got a new family now!"

The barkeep looked at you. Your hair was all over the place. He then looked at Dutch.

"Say no more, guvnor," he tapped the side of his nose.

You could tell what he was thinking. Dutch looked at you and frowned, before you had a chance to say anything or pull a face.

"C'mon," Dutch, beckoned you over.

As he headed towards the main door, the barkeep called over, "I'd use the back way, if I were you!" he gestured towards a single door, with his thumb.

Dutch nodded, and flung a few more dollars on the counter. "Appreciate your help," he concluded, as you both headed towards the rear exit.

The pair of you carried on foot, until you were a way out of the town. Dutch whistled, and The Count came flying out of who knew where.

Dutch lifted you up, then mounted up behind as he headed across country.

"Where are we going?" you asked. It didn't appear as though you were heading back to camp.

Dutch wrapped his arm around you a little tighter.

"Don't worry, I said I'd keep you safe, didn't I" he whispered.

You nodded, still a little worried though. It appeared that your grandfather was getting close. The last thing you wanted was for Dutch, and his gang to have to flee again. You'd only just arrived at this new camp.

Dutch carried on heading north. You had no idea where you were in respect to Clemens Point. You knew that the camp was fairly close to Rhodes, but you had left there more than two hours ago. Your stomach was also starting to growl. You hadn't eaten since last night, but you guessed that was a small price to pay for your freedom.

"Won't Hosea be worried?" you asked.

Dutch chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure he will, plus he's sure to scold me, when we get back."

You frowned, slightly confused. "I thought you were in charge?" you queried.

Dutch laughed, deeply. You realised you didn't very often hear him laugh like that.

"Me and Hosea, started the gang together." he paused, "well it wasn't really a gang when we started, just the two of us. Then it just grew. Hosea likes to think he keeps me on the right track!"

You turned your head, "does he?"

Dutch kissed your neck, "I said he likes to think he does."

Dutch rode into some woods, where there was a small stream. He stopped, and hitched The Count to a tree. He gently lifted you from the horses back.

"You must be hungry, I know I am," he concluded.

He pulled a fishing rod, from his saddle bag, and headed towards the stream. You followed just behind him.

"Have you been fishing before?" he asked.

You nodded, "once or twice with..." you hesitated, "with my daddy, before..."

Dutch put his arm around you, "It's ok. It's best not to dwell on the past, just look forward to the future. You catch us some fish, while I build a fire. We can have something to eat, then head back. We should be far enough north, so we can backtrack to camp without being followed."

Dutch handed you a lure, and the fishing rod, and you headed to the stream. Once you baited the rod with the lure, you cast it, and sat on a flat rock, waiting for the fish to bite.

It didn't take long, before you had a bite, and quickly reeled it in. It was only small, so you tried again.

By the time Dutch came back, you had several small fish.

"That should do it, I reckon." he commented.

You glanced over your shoulder, and smiled as you reset the line, and handed the pole back to Dutch.

You picked up the fish, and headed back to the fire.

Dutch put the pole away, and unsheathed his knife, before handing it to you.

"I'll let you do the honours," he smirked.

You stabbed one of the fish, with the knife, and held it over the flames slowly cooking it.

"I should really have bought you a knife, when we got the holster. But I didn't plan on us having to make a run for it, or to have to cook our own lunch!" he chuckled.

You hummed, "maybe next time we go into town, I can get a knife."

Dutch rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry sweetheart, but until Josiah comes up with a plan, I think its gonna be too risky for any shopping trips!"

You sighed, and handed Dutch the first cooked fish, "I'm sorry," you sighed.

You stabbed another fish, and started to cook it.

Dutch smiled at you, "It's not your fault, Blair. It's your arsehole of a grandfather who's to blame!"

You nodded, as you slowly cooked the fish on Dutch's knife. "You could always just kill him," you suggested.

Dutch frowned, "Blair!" he scolded, "we may be outlaws, but we ain't murderers!"

You took the cooked fish from the knife, and handed the knife back to Dutch.

"No, I guess that's just my family," you sighed.

Dutch tilted his head to one side, "Come here, Blair. Come sit next to me." he urged.

You walked around the fire, and sat next to him.

Dutch put his arm around you, as you both sat there, gazing into the fire and eating the fish.

"Ya know," he started, "things aren't always as bad as they seem,"

You sighed, "really, 'cos they seem pretty bleak to me right now."

"Well," he reasoned, "if someone had told you two years ago that both your parents would be murdered, and you'd be sitting by a campfire, cooking fish with an outlaw, hiding from bounty hunters, you probably would have called them crazy!"

Dutch slowly massaged your shoulder, and pulled you closer to him.

"On the flip side, you're now with someone who really cares about you, more so than your family, so it's not all bad, is it?" he asked.

You rested your head on Dutch, "I suppose not, if you put it like that, but if things can change so quickly, where do you think I'll be in two years time," you asked.

Dutch hummed, "well, I have a plan, you just have to have a little faith, Blair."


	20. Chapter 20

You sat there, staring into the fire lost in your thoughts. You were troubled. You had only just evaded the bounty hunters in Rhodes. How did they even know where you were. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence. Then it dawned on you. Josiah. Could he really be trusted. No sign of any bounty hunters until he turned up. Maybe he had decided that he wanted the money. You didn't think for one minute, that Dutch had agreed to this. If he had you'd now be in the hands of the bounty hunters, not sitting here eating fish around an open fire.

You looked at Dutch. "Don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence that the bounty hunters turned up, just when we were in Rhodes?" you asked.

Dutch frowned, "what are you saying, Blair?"

You shrugged, "I just think its a bit odd is all. Not many people new we would be there!"

Dutch stared at you for a minute, saying nothing.

"Let's get back," he said, as he stood up, and stamped out the fire.

You walked over to The Count, rubbing his nose, and stroking his neck.

Dutch walked over, once the fire was out. "I think he likes you," he chuckled, before lifting you into the saddle.

He unhitched his horse, and mounted up behind you. Once again his arm wrapped around you tightly, and he headed the count south again, heading towards the camp and Clemens Point.

Dutch kept an eye out for more bounty hunters, but there weren't any. You hadn't mentioned your suspicions regarding Josiah. Mainly because Josiah seemed to be Dutch's friend. You didn't want to upset him with your suspicions, especially if they turned out to be unfounded.

As you rode into camp, you saw Bill on guard duty.

"Thank fuck you're back," he yelled at Dutch, "Hosea was just about to send out a search party!"

Dutch rolled his eyes, "ran into a spot of bother."

He quickly jumped off The Count, and hitched him, before lifting you down.

"Take those extra fish to Mr Pearson will you please, Blair? I have to talk to Hosea!"

You nodded, and grabbed the fish out of the saddle bag. As you headed towards Pearson's wagon, you glanced across and saw Josiah, sitting with Hosea. You weren't quite sure why, but you started to feel uneasy.

"here Mr Pearson. We had to make a quick stop, we caught too much to eat by ourselves," you said as you put the fish on the table.

Pearson chuckled, "all contributions gratefully accepted, no matter how small."

You smiled, and headed over to where Dutch was now sitting with Hosea and Josiah.

As you headed towards where the three men sat, they all looked at you. None of them were smiling, but you weren't either. You stood near the table, and glared at Josiah.

"Blair, how are you?" Josiah asked, forcing a smile.

"Surprised to see me, Mr Trelawny?" you hissed.

Josiah frowned, "is something the matter, Blair?"

"You tell me?" you hissed.

Hosea and Dutch stared at you, like you had suddenly lost your mind, until realisation hit Dutch.

"The bounty hunters in Rhodes!" he exclaimed.

Josiah nodded, "You think I had something to do with that?" he asked, looking at you.

You glared at him, "well its a bit strange that no sooner do you find out about the bounty, and that Dutch is taking me into Rhodes, you disappear and then a load of bounty hunters appear!" you exclaimed.

Josiah sighed, "nothing could be further from the truth, in fact quite the opposite."

You folded your arms, and stared at him.

Dutch stood up and put his arm around you. "Blair, you better sit down."

You stiffened, "why?"

Josiah looked at you and smiled, "I've managed to get your grandfather to stop looking for you, but we have to act fast." he explained.

You frowned, "Act fast? And do what, exactly?" you asked.

Dutch gently guided you towards a seat. "You better sit down, and we'll explain."

You sat down at the table, glancing between the three men. Something didn't feel right. If Josiah had miraculously got your grandfather to back off, you wanted to know why.

Josiah put his hand into his inside pocket and pulled out of piece of paper, which he put on the table.

"Your grandfather, is first and foremost a business man," Josiah began. "Not a particularly pleasant man, but when it comes to business...well pleasant people don't usually get very far."

Josiah, scratched the back of his neck.

"He was quite prepared to marry you off to Mr Cornwall, for some shares in his oil business. 25,000 dollars, was small price to pay when you will be receiving 150,000 dollars on your 18th birthday. Once you're married, that would have gone to Mr Cornwall, as he would have control over your affairs as your husband."

You frowned, "would have?"

Josiah nodded, "your grandfather thinks he has found a better deal. The oil business is risky at best. Goldmines on the other hand, less so."

"I don't understand, why would my grandfather suddenly not want me to be married?"

Josiah chuckled, "I never said that, but he wants you to marry the owner of the goldmine! Which in effect, doesn't exist, which is why we have to move fast!"

You shook your head, "I still don't get where your coming from."

Josiah tapped the documents on the table.

"Your grandfather has agreed that you should marry the owner of the goldmine, in exchange for a share in said goldmine. Its a scam of course, there is no goldmine which is why we have to move fast. We have to get you wed, and the marriage consummated, so that your grandfather can't get it annulled. We need to do this before he realises the goldmine doesn't exist!"

You stood up, glaring at Josiah, "I'm not marrying anyone!" you exclaimed.

Dutch looked at you and smiled, "Yes you are Blair! You're marrying me, I'm the owner of the goldmine!"


	21. Chapter 21

You stared at Dutch, open mouthed. Trying to let it sink in. This was crazy.

“No!” you yelled, “I’m not marrying anyone,” You turned around and walked away, your heart beating so hard you could hear it in your ears.

You felt tears running down your cheek.

“Blair! Come here,” Dutch demanded.

“No!” you ran towards the lake.

As you ran past the main campfire, you felt eyes following you. You didn’t really look to see who was there. To be honest you didn’t really care.

You reached the edge of the lake, and heard footsteps behind you.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Dutch warned.

You stopped, and spun around glaring at him, “Why? What will you do? Tie me up? Shoot me? Rape me? Force me to marry you? Turn me in for the reward? Seems like you’re choices are endless!” you hissed.

“Blair, I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, I promise.” Dutch pleaded.

You looked at him, eyes narrowed, “Why should I believe you, everyone I ever knew, lied to me. Except my mother, and look where that got her, she’s dead!

You put your hand on the gun in your holster.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Dutch warned.

You scowled at him, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna try and kill myself, if that’s what you’re worried about. Maybe I’ll do what the rest of my family does, kill anyone that gets in my way!” you snarled.

“Blair, no one wants you to be like the rest of your family, especially me, I don’t want you to think you have to turn into a killer, just to survive!” Dutch concluded.

“Bit late for that!” you scoffed, “I’ve already killed two people, what difference will a few more make!”

“Listen to me...” Dutch started.

“No,” you screamed, “I’m done listening. You’re no different from the rest, you just want me for my money. That’s all anyone wants,” you sobbed.

Dutch walked towards you, and attempted to put his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” you yelled. “I’m not marrying you, I’m not marrying anyone, not until I find someone I love!”

Dutch stared at you, the silence was almost deafening.

“You don’t feel anything for me?” He asked, his voice cracking.

You stared at him, you could see the hurt in his face.

“I… No… I don’t know.” you sobbed, and ran along the shoreline. You glanced behind you a couple of times. Dutch wasn’t following, and Hosea now stood next to him. You had no idea what they were saying, but they both stared after you.

You hadn’t exactly left camp, but you had found your way to a secluded area. Surrounded by trees. You sat on the ground, and leant against a large oak. You were out of breath from running, and crying. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and leant your head against the tree. What were you going to do now? You felt something for Dutch, but what exactly.

You heard a twig snap, You quickly opened your eyes, relieved to see that it wasn’t Dutch standing there looking at you, but it felt a bit like out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“It can be dangerous for little princess’s to be alone in the woods,” Arthur smirked.

You closed your eyes, and leant your head back. “Go ahead, slit my throat, or rape me, put me out of my misery, I really don’t care any more,” you said, as your voice cracked and a sob escaped your lips. Tears escaped you eyes, and trickled down your cheek.

What happened next, you really weren’t expecting. You sensed Arthur approach, but instead of being roughly man handled, assaulted or killed, you felt his hand on your face, gently wiping away the tears.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered.

Arthur gently took your hands and pulled you up, so you were standing.

He stroked a stray hair from your face, “what did he do? Dump you for someone else?” he asked.

You shook your head, “They’ve conned my grandfather, and I’m supposed to marry Dutch.” you blurted out.

Arthur started to laugh, “he’s come up with some bizarre plans, but that one...its priceless!”

You snatched your hands away, “Its not funny, I’m fed up with everyone using me.”

You turned to walk away.

Arthur grabbed your shoulder, “Don’t be an idiot Blair, you walk out of here and your fresh meat, for every outlaw and bounty hunter in the state!”

You glared at him, “no different to everyone here then, is it?” you hissed.

Arthur pushed you against a tree, and held your hands above your heads, his body pressing against yours.

“I told you once, to be careful. That people would try and take advantage of you.” he growled.

“What, like you did?” You sighed.

Arthur looked at you, and rolled his eyes. Half a smile on his lips, “I didn’t want to, but when we came back from the cabin, and Dutch wouldn’t let me see you, then seduced you himself. I was so angry. I shouldn’t have done what I did, when you were tied up. I just wanted to get back at him.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “all you achieved was driving me towards him.”

Arthur released your hands, and held your face gently in his hands, gazing into your eyes.

“Tell me Blair, do you love him?”

You stared into Arthur’s eyes, but only for a second. Then you closed yours.

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly.

“Blair, look at me,” Arthur demanded.

You opened your eyes.

“Have you and he…?” he asked, he didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“No,” you gulped, “He said I wasn’t ready.”

Arthur sighed, and shook his head, and let go of your face.

He held out his hand, “Come with me, Blair. I’ll keep you safe,” he hesitated, “unless you want to marry Dutch and let him fuck you to oblivion?”

You looked at Arthur, “how can I trust you, you might...”

Arthur nodded, “I might, but it would be because I wanted you, not your money!”

You held out your hand, and Arthur took it. He led you through the trees, then let out a shrill whistle.

A large black brute of a horse came trotting towards him. He quickly mounted, and held out his hand.

“You can ride behind me, that way you can hold on to me, then you won’t think I’m taking advantage.”

You held out your arm, and he pulled you up behind him. You grabbed onto his coat, rather than wrapping your arms around his waist.

Arthur chuckled, “fair enough,” he whispered, as he kicked the big black shire on.

You had no idea where he was taking you, or what he intended to do. It couldn’t be any worse than what Dutch had in mind. You hoped he wasn’t going to turn you in for the bounty. But if what Josiah had said was true, the bounty didn’t exist any more anyway. Not for the time being.

You were kind of caught between a rock and a hard place. Dutch or Arthur. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. You guessed you would find out, sooner or later.

As you rode along, you looked around you. You seemed to be heading north. Your suspicions were confirmed, when you crossed the border, out of Lemoyne county. Arthur rode across country, and until you were back on the shore of the lake, a lot further north.

He rode down to the shore where there was a little cabin, on the edge of the lake.

“we’re here,” he concluded, as he reined in the horse. You let go of his jacket and slid off the back of the horse.

“where exactly is here?” you asked.

Arthur chuckled. “It’s owned by someone I know, but he hardly ever stays here. Too busy travelling, and selling his books.”

Arthur, walked up to the cabin and opened the door. You followed him in. The walls were covered in stuffed fish. Trophies of some description.

“You should be safe here, at least for a while. There’s food in the cupboards. Bedroom is through there,” he pointed towards the door. “I’ll come back later, I’m gonna go back and see what's going on with Dutch and Hosea.”

“You won’t tell him where I am?” you asked, hopefully.

Arthur chuckled, “wouldn’t be much point bringing you here, if I was gonna do that.”

You looked at him, “What do you want, Arthur? I mean in return for helping me?”

Arthur walked over, he cupped your cheek in his hand, “just a chance,” he whispered, “a chance to make you realise I’m not a monster.” He gently kissed you on the forehead. “I better go.”

Arthur walked towards the door, as he opened it you called after him.

“Arthur?”

He turned to look at you.

“Thank you,” you said, forcing a smile.

Arthur smiled back, then left the cabin, leaving you alone with your thoughts.


	22. Chapter 22

You sat there and stared at the door. You weren't quite sure how long it had been since Arthur had gone.

Finally, you snapped out of your daydream.

You stood up, and decided to check this place out.

You looked in the bedroom. The bed looked comfortable. Probably not as comfortable as the one in Rhodes parlour house, but better than a cot.

Walking back into the main room, you noticed a large fireplace, with a big stone chimney-breast. It wasn't really cold enough to need a fire, besides, the smoke might attract attention.

Looking out the window, you realised how late it was, the sun was just setting. There was another door. When you opened it, you realised it lead outside onto a little dock overlooking the lake.

You stepped outside, then sat down on the edge of the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, just above the water. You couldn't help but look to the south, as you thought about Dutch.

Was he looking for you. Looking because he cared for you or because he cared about how much you were worth. Then there was Arthur. What did he really want, and how had you managed to make two people that cared for each other now hate each other so much. You pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead. Why were you feeling so confused. You liked it when Dutch wrapped his arms around you and made you feel safe. You liked it when Arthur had kissed you in the cabin. Was that love. How could you love two people at the same time. And marriage. Your mama, married your daddy. But he didn't love her. She'd ended up dead.

Right now you just wanted to run. Run to where though. You'd run from Dutch to Arthur, who said he just wanted a chance. Should you give him a chance? Trust him? You were tired of running. Tired of being used.

Looking at the lake, it was almost like a mirror, reflecting the dying rays of the sun. You couldn't see below the surface.

You stood up, and walked to the end of the jetty. It looked deep. With one final look at the setting sun, you smiled and stepped off the edge, the weight of your gun, dragging you down into the dark water. Just before the water covered your head, you thought you heard someone call your name, but by then it was too late.

Living on a ranch, you had never learnt to swim. When you tried to open your eyes, it made them sting. It felt like someone was crushing your chest. As you opened your mouth to scream, the pain got worse, and darkness enveloped you.

You felt a crushing pain in your chest, as you finally gulped in air. You coughed, and felt as though you were being sick, but water gushed out your mouth instead. You groaned, then darkness took you once again.

The next time you woke, the pain in your chest was gone, but you were cold. When you opened your eyes, you realised you were in a tent. You started to sob, tears running down your face.

"Hush now, its ok," Susan soothed you gently.

You looked at the face you recognised, this was the last place you wanted to be.

"I... I can't do this anymore," you sobbed.

Susan sat down next to you on the cot and wrapped her arms around you.

"Its ok Blair, you don't have to," she soothed.

You suddenly felt Susan stiffen.

"I told you to get out," she yelled, "get out and stay out,"

After a few seconds her voice softened again.

"Its ok sweetheart, I'm gonna look after you," she soothed, "just try and rest."

You closed your eyes, shivering slightly. Just before you drifted off, you felt another blanket being put over you.

The next time you woke, you didn't feel so cold. When you opened your eyes, you looked over to see Susan still sitting there. She smiled softly.

She helped you to sit, then put a cup of water to your lips. You took a couple of swallows, then started to cough.

Susan gently rubbed your back. "What on earth were you thinking, Blair." she scolded, softly.

You closed your eyes. You didn't really know what you were thinking, "I... I thought it would be better that way," you croaked.

You stiffened as you saw the tent flap move, but relaxed when you saw Mary-Beth.

"I brought some broth that Mr Pearson made up," she smiled at you.

Susan stood up, "Thank you Mary-Beth, can you stay with Blair, and help her eat something, I need to attend to something."

Mary-Beth nodded, and sat down beside you as Susan left the tent.

"You had us all worried, you know," she lowered her voice, "especially Arthur!"

You ate some of the soup, it tasted good.

"is he angry? Arthur?" you asked, hesitantly.

Mary-Beth smiled, and shook her head. "No, not angry. Just worried. Susan won't let him see you though, won't let any of the men in here."

"Will you tell him I'm sorry," you asked.

Mary-Beth frowned, "Yes, if you want me to, but sorry for what?"

You sighed, "he'll know."

You ate a bit more of the soup. You had so many questions.

"Who got me out the lake?" you asked, "and how did he find me, I thought Arthur was the only one who knew where I was?"

"Javier found you, I think he saw you ride off with Arthur, and he followed." Mary-Beth concluded.

You sighed, "It would have been easier if he'd just left me to drown."

Mary-Beth took the empty bowl from you, "don't you dare even think that, we all care about you. Whatever has happened, whatever made you do that, we can fix it." she soothed.

You shook your head, "I don't think you can fix this, Mary-Beth. This isn't one of your romance novels," you sighed, as you lay down.

You closed your eyes, you still didn't know what was going to happen, but for now you felt safe under Susan's protection. You did wonder how long she would be able to keep the men away for.

You drifted in and out of sleep. Occasionally waking up shivering, other times hot. Always there was someone with you, Susan, Mary-Beth, Karen or Tilly. Sometimes they would encourage you to drink more water, or put a cold cloth on your head, or whisper soothing words, telling you everything would be ok.

Sometimes you would hear Susan's raised voice outside the tent, and other male raised voices. Once you opened your eyes, to see the tent flap open, and Susan speaking in hushed tones to Javier. It seemed that he was the only one allowed anywhere near the tent. Also the only one who didn't get shouted at.

The next time you woke, you didn't feel cold, or hot. You just felt weak. Susan was sitting on a chair, next to the cot.

"How are you feeling," she asked.

"A bit weak, and tired." you replied. "How long have I been lying here?"

Susan smiled, "almost a week, you had a bad fever." She hesitated, "someone wants to see you?"

You stiffened, "who?"

She touched your shoulder, to try and calm you, "just Javier. He's the one that pulled you out of the lake. Are you feeling up to a visitor."

You nodded. You owed him that much you supposed. He'd saved your life, even if you didn't really want to be saved.

Susan stood up, and walked to the tent flap, and held it open.

Javier walked in, and smiled gently. He didn't come too close, giving you space.

"How are you feeling, Chica? You've had us all worried." he asked.

You forced a smile. "Better, I think, just tired."

He gestured towards the cot, "may I?"

You nodded, and he came and sat on the edge of the cot.

He took one of your hands, and held it in his. You figured your hands must be cold, because his were very warm.

"Things are not as bad as they may seem, Chica. Not worth throwing away your life," he whispered.

You shook your head, "I don't know whether I should thank you, or curse you. Things are pretty bleak. I just don't want to run any more."

He smiled, "then don't, stand your ground. You're stronger than you think. It's your life, you decide, don't let anyone force you."

You sighed, "you make it sound so easy."

Javier chuckled, "It is Chica, you'll see." he pressed his lips to your hand, "now you must rest, and regain your strength."

He stood up, and headed towards the door. Before he left, he turned around to look at you.

"They told me to protect you, and I always will," he winked and left the tent.

Susan walked back into the tent.

"Ok?" she asked.

You nodded.

"He's right, of course, you need to rest and regain your strength. You should eat something," she urged.

"I think I'll try and rest first, perhaps eat something later?" You offered.

Susan nodded, "I've left instructions that you're not to be disturbed."

You watched as she walked out the tent. You wondered if they would heed her instructions. To be honest you were too tired to care. You closed your eyes, and drifted off to sleep, with Javier's words, repeating in your head 'Y_ou are stronger than you think_'.


	23. Chapter 23

Days passed by, and you slowly started to regain your strength. Susan would come in to see how you were doing, and bring you food. Mary-Beth would occasionally come and read to you, or bring you a book to read.

Your thoughts often wandered to Dutch and Arthur. How they were fighting over you. Why? It seemed ridiculous to you. You never thought of yourself as particularly attractive, although Dutch would often tell you that you were, and Arthur had called you pretty.

You didn't really believe it, and you always knew that as outlaws, the next big score was always at the back of there mind. That's what you were, the next big score.

Well no any more. Javier had been right, you were strong. If you could pull off what you were about to do, Dutch's crazy plans would seem lame.

You waited until nightfall, you quickly peered out the tent, everything was silent. Everyone was sleeping.

You walked to the corner of the tent, and opened the chest in the corner. Sad that all your worldly possessions, now fit into such a small chest.

You rummaged around in the bottom, and found the money clip. You smiled, remembering stealing the coach with Hosea and Arthur, then delivering it to Seamus.

You shoved the money in your pocket, then dug out the oldest shirt you could find. It was quite badly worn in places, but that would be perfect.

Looking in the chest, you saw the gun and holster that Dutch had bought for you. It was lovely, but too good for what you needed. It saddened you slightly that you had to leave it behind. You looked at the initials embossed into the holster. BA. You chuckled, your first romantic encounter had been with Billy Adams behind the school house. He had tried to kiss you. It had been all wet and slobbery, more like getting a kiss from a dog. Not like the kisses that you had got from Arthur and Dutch.

You took off your shirt and bra. You started to rip the shirt you had been wearing into strips. You weren't very big up top, so this would make life easier. You bound your breasts down, as tightly as you could, with the strips of cloth. Then put on the old shirt. You buried the bra in the bottom of the chest. The last thing you needed was them suspecting what you were doing. You found the small knife, that you had used to cut the name with, when you marked your fathers wooden cross. You slowly started to chop off your hair, as short as you could manage with the knife. You were no longer Blair Adler, you were now Billy Adams.

Digging further into the chest you found you fathers old pistol, and a box of extra bullets. You loaded the gun, and shoved the bullets in your pocket. Putting the gun in your belt.

All you really needed now was a hat, you could always buy one.

Finally you grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil.

_Thank you for everything, but I can't stay._

_Please don't look for me, I'll be fine._

_Blair_

You crept out of the tent, and slowly went through the trees, avoiding the path out of camp, and whoever was on guard duty.

Once you reached the main track, you looked around to get your bearings, and headed towards Rhodes.

By the time you reached Rhodes, the sun was beginning to rise. Luckily the General Store was already open. You went in and grabbed some supplies, mostly fruit and chocolate bars. You also bought a hat, a little cap, the sort that you'd seen stable hands wear. You took everything to the counter to pay for.

"Anything else you need, son," the shopkeeper asked.

"No thanks sir," you said lowering your voice slightly, and managing to stop from grinning. It seemed that your plan was working.

On leaving the store, you headed for the station. You went over to the ticket booth.

"And where are you heading to, young man?" the ticket vendor asked.

You looked at the board, "St. Denis." you replied, hastily, "when does the train arrive?" you asked.

The man smiled, "about twenty minutes, that'll be two dollars."

You handed the man the correct money, and grabbed the ticket. Lowering your cap, so it covered a bit of your face you waited on the platform.

You wouldn't really feel home and dry until you were on the train, heading to the city, where you could get lost in the crowds.

As soon as the train pulled into the station you hopped on board. You got a few funny looks from the other passengers, who were all dressed in posh clothes. They probably wondered how you could afford a ticket. That didn't really matter, once you got to St. Denis, you would head straight to the stable, see if they had any work. You might have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but you always helped with the horses around the ranch. Its what you knew. It was what you enjoyed. Horses were far less complicated that people.

The train finally pulled into the station. As you stepped off, you wondered if you had made the right decision. You'd never really been to a city, and you pretty much decided you didn't like it much.

So much noise, so many people. Still it was only for a while. Only till you turned 18. Then you would get your money, buy some land and raise horses.

You saw a boy, selling newspapers so you headed across to buy one.

"Can you tell me where the stables are?" you asked, lowering your voice again.

The young lad pointed. "keep on this road, it curves to the right at the bottom, you'll see the stables on your right,"

You nodded thanks, and scanned the newspaper. Seeing if there was any sign of you still being looked for.

There was a small article, about four pages in. Unless you were searching for it, you would have missed it.

**Missing Heiress thought to be kidnapped by Outlaws**

** Reward $25000 for any information leading to her recovery.**

** Oliver McMahon is offering a reward for the safe recover of his**

** grand-daughter Blair Adler. She is his only surviving relative, believed**

** to have been kidnapped by the Van Der Linde Gang. Notorious Outlaws**

** wanted for Robbery and Murder.**

** Mr McMahon is very concerned for the safety of his grand-daughter.**

You laughed, I bet he's concerned you thought to yourself.

You followed the instructions of the newspaper boy, and found yourself outside the stables.

It was a huge building, but that was all. You felt sorry for the poor horses, cooped up in a stables all day.

You walked into the building. You were surprised how large it was inside, and so many stalls, all filled with horses.

A man, the owner you thought, stared at you.

"Can I help you?" he huffed.

You took your hat off, as a mark of respect. Hoping he didn't realise you were a girl.

"I'm looking for work...sir." You stated.

He rolled his eyes, and huffed. "know anything about horses?"

You nodded, "yes sir, I was raised on a ranch."

The man frowned, and hummed. "I'll give you a trial, what's your name?"

"Billy Adams," you replied.

He looked you up and down, and hummed. "be here at sunrise."

"Thank you, sir." you said, and turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called.

You froze, what if he'd realised who you were, or if you weren't a boy.

"You got anywhere to stay?" he asked.

You turned around, "no sir, I only just arrived in the city."

He nodded, "here, go to this address, a lot of the stable lads stay there,"

He handed you a card, which you took.

"You got any money, boy. Or do you want an advance?" he grunted.

"I have a little left, thank you," you replied, quickly turning and heading out of the stable.

You looked at the card, which had an address on it.

There was a stable boy sweeping outside the stables.

"Excuse me, do you know where this is?" you asked.

He looked, "sure, just follow the road round, its a blue house on the corner. Guess the old man just gave you a job did he?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, well don't be late," he huffed.

You left the grumpy stable boy sweeping, and headed to find the lodgings.

So far, so good.

You knocked on the door of the big blue house, that you had been directed to.

A woman, not unlike Susan opened the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked, frowning.

Once again you took off your hat, "I just got a job at the stables, they said you might have a room?"

She hummed and looked you up and down. "what's you name?"

"Billy Adams," you replied.

She stood there looking at you, a smirk crossed her lips, Billy eh?

You nodded, "Yes Ma'am." you confirmed.

She rolled her eyes, "whatever, its a dollar for the room, and a dollar if you want supper. Payable in advance."

You handed her two dollars. "Room 3b, suppers at 6, no alcohol or guests." she grumbled.

You nodded, and headed up the stairs.

The room was plain, but clean. You sat on the bed. A real bed, not just a cot.

There was a clock on the wall, it read 5.30.

You'd go down at 6 have supper, then stay in your room. You had a niggling feeling that she knew you were a girl. You just had to hope, that she didn't care. In any case, you only had to do this for 3 months, then you would be 18, then all your problems would be over.


	24. Chapter 24

Supper was uneventful. It reminded you somewhat of Pearson’s stew. Although Pearson could probably teach your landlady a thing or two about cooking. Something that you never thought you would say.

If the job at the stable worked out, you thought you might try finding other lodgings. Somewhere you could cook your own food.

For now this would have to do.

You doubted, if any of the gang were looking for you, they would find you very easily. Besides, the had no idea which direction you went in.

You went straight to your room after supper. You unstrapped your chest. It was uncomfortable, but a means to an end. You would just re strap it in the morning, before your first days work at the stables.

It was still dark when you woke. You were well rested, and you wanted to make sure you were at the stables for your first day on time. The clock read 5.30, you had no idea what time the sun rose, but you didn’t think it would be long. You needed this job if you were going to make it here, for the next 3 months. If the job didn’t work out, plan B was to steal a few wagons and sell them to Seamus. But that was very risky, as word would likely get back to Arthur, and he would be able to track you down.

You quickly strapped yourself back up, and threw on your shirt. Leaving the house, you headed to the stables.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon as you approached the stables.

The stable master, was already there, and it looked as though you were the first to arrive.

He nodded at you. “You can brush the horses in stables one through five. Come and see me when you’re done.” He ordered.

You nodded, and started on the first horse. It was a beautiful black Arab stallion. It reminded you a bit of The Count. Although not quite as grumpy, although still a little skittish.

You’d just finished brushing him, and was about to go to the next one.

You noticed the Stable owner watching you.

“You’re very good with the horses,” he commented.

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, lowering your voice.

“Come and see me once you’ve finished those five, I’ve got another job for you,”

You nodded and carried on.

The five horses that you dealt with were the Arab, a couple of Dutch warmbloods, and appaloosa and a Tennessee walker. None of them caused you any issues. 

You went to find the stable owner. He pointed you towards another five horses. You thought you might have to muck out stables, or clean tack. Much to the annoyance of the other stable lads, it appeared that you were going to be doing most of the grooming. This suited you perfectly. You liked nothing better, than being around the horses.

At the end of the day, you got your wages. $3 which just about covered your lodging and food. It was all you needed really. Although you realised you wouldn’t get much rest for the next 3 months just to survive. It suddenly made you realise how easy you had it before.

You worked at the stables for the next week. Most days you would reach your lodging, eat supper, then go straight to bed exhausted. Some days you were more tired than others. The days when you had to clean out the stables, you found more tiring than the grooming. You were glad when you finished on Saturday. You were supposed to have Sunday off. That’s until the Stable owner approached you.

“I have a gentlemen coming to collect a horse tomorrow, if you can use the money, I can use the help,” he asked.

You nodded. If you earned some extra money, you could go to one of the hotels and get a bath at least. You didn’t need to come in until later either, he just wanted you to get the horse ready.

You arrived at the stables at around ten. You headed into the stable holding a big dapple grey thoroughbred stallion. He was a bit skittish, but you soon calmed him down, before brushing him.

The stable owner wanted you to saddle him up as well. He left a beautiful black Gerden Vaquero saddle, which the new owner had also purchased along with a black bridle.

Once you’d finished grooming him you tacked him up.

You heard the owner yell

“Billy, bring the horse over will ya.”

You lead the horse from its box towards where the stable owner was, with the prospective new owner. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth when you saw who it was.

You pulled your cap down a bit lower, as you saw Josiah Trelawny standing, talking to the stable owner.

He stared at you as you walked across. You handed him the reins, trying to keep your head down.

“Thank you...Billy!” he smirked.

The stable owner looked at you, “Thanks Billy, I don’t need you any more today, see you in the morning.” He handed you five dollars.

You smiled, “Thanks sir,” you shoved the money in your pocket, and bid a hasty exit.

You ran as fast as you could, heading towards the lodging house. You thought you’d got away with it, until you heard hoof-beats, he rode past you then stopped the horse in front of you.

You couldn’t help but look up.

“Blair, or is it Billy these days.” he quipped.

You scowled at him. “Please just leave me be,” you asked.

He looked at you and shook his head, “Dutch is still searching for you, he hasn’t stopped since you left. He’s frantic. Come to think of it, so is Arthur.”

You sighed, “I left a note, I told them not to look! Are you going to tell them that you found me?”

Josiah rolled his eyes, “of course I’m going to tell them, they’re worried about you. Especially after the stunt you pulled at the lake.” He tilted his head, “What happened to your hair?”

You took of your cap, “I chopped it off. Hopefully they’ll stop chasing me, now I look like a boy.” you concluded.

Josiah chuckled, “Dutch cares for you a lot, looking like a boy wont change that.”

You rolled your eyes, “So does Arthur, that’s the problem!”

Josiah frowned, “Oh, I see.”

“Besides, I don’t think either of them really care for me, they care for my money. You of all people should realise that!” you huffed.

Josiah shook his head, “you’re wrong Blair, I don’t know about Arthur, But Dutch, its not about the money at all.”

“Then just wait for 3 months, I’ll be 18 then, and free from my grandfathers clutches. Then if they’re still interested, I might come back, It’ll give them a chance to stop hating each other, because of me.”

Josiah sighed, “Its never easy, when two people love the same person. But you won’t last 3 months, have you taken a look at yourself, you’re exhausted, and filthy!”

You sighed, “I’m just a bit tired, I’m going to the hotel to have a bath later.”

“When did you last eat, Blair? You’re skin and bone!” Josiah asked, concern on his face.

You rolled your eyes, “last night. I don’t have much left once I’ve paid for my lodging and a meal.”

Josiah reached into his pocket, and pulled out some money, “here at least take this, so you can have a decent meal, or even find somewhere better to live.”

You shook your head, “No, Josiah. I have to do this myself. I don’t want any help, and I don’t want you to tell Dutch where I am!”

Josiah sighed, and rode off. You weren’t convinced that he wouldn’t tell Dutch. You might have to move on, quicker than you thought.

You walked into the house and up to your room. You had planned to walk to the hotel, and take a bath. But Josiah was right, you were exhausted. Hard work, and little food had taken their toll.

You lay on your bed and drifted off to sleep.

You were woken, by a loud bang on the door. “Supper in ten minutes,”

You got up from the bed, and splashed some water on your face. Despite you looking like a boy, you didn’t fancy risking the streets of St. Denis at night, just to take a bath. Also you were still really tired. So it was going to be supper and bed. You did wonder if Josiah had a point. Could you last 3 months doing this. You were beginning to wonder.

Sunrise came around all to quickly. You quickly strapped yourself up, and chucked on the shirt, which was beginning to smell. Maybe you would just risk bathing in the river, and buy yourself a change of clothes. You were beginning to think a life of crime would be preferable to the daily slog. The only people that seemed to make a reasonable amount for very little effort were the street women. You weren’t prepared to stoop that low yet. The thought of your grandfathers face if you did though, made you chuckle.

With that thought lingering, you walked into the stables, and started another day of work.

No one seemed to notice your smelly clothes. You guessed because your clothes smelt the same as your environment, horse sweat, and horse shit.

You smirked as you were brushing the black Arab. Wondering how amorous Dutch would feel if he found you smelling like this. You wondered if it was the exhaustion or the inevitability of how you would smell at the end of the day. Whatever it was, you seemed to find humour in the most ludicrous of situations.

When you picked up your wages that night, you noticed the stable owner, looked down his nose at you. You wondered if you had got used to how you smelt, but perhaps he hadn’t. Still if he paid you a bit more, then you would be able to afford a change of clothes.

You shoved the money in your pocket, and headed back to the lodgings.

You opened the door, and were about to head upstairs when the landlady called your name.

“Billy, someone to see you, they’re waiting in the parlour.”

You felt your heart miss a beat. You were tempted to run out the door and flee. But you were made of sterner stuff.

You took off your cap, and walked into the parlour.

As you walked into the room, you saw Dutch and Hosea standing there.

They both looked at you in shock.

“Jesus, Blair! Whatever happened to you?” Hosea exclaimed.


	25. Chapter 25

You frowned, at Hosea. “Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“When did you last eat?” Hosea asked.

“Last night. You’ll have to leave though, because supper is at 6.30.” you remarked.

Hosea shook his head, “when did you last bathe, or change your clothes?”

You shrugged, “I haven't had time to get a bath, or buy spare clothes.”

Dutch stood up, “I’ve heard enough, c’mon Blair, I’m taking you home.”

You rolled your eyes, “really I’m fine, anyway I have a job.”

Hosea nodded, “a job? Doing what? What does it pay?” he challenged.

“At the stables, three dollars a day,” you declared. “the owner thinks I’m good with the horses.”

Dutch looked at you in disbelief, then glanced at Hosea, “go get her stuff, we’ll stop at the hotel tonight, and head back in the morning.”

You frowned, “What stuff, anyway I said I’m fine. I need to do this.”

Dutch walked over, and put his hands on your shoulders. He could feel your bones, poking through your skin.

“Have you looked at your self in the mirror recently, Blair. You look ill!”

You gasped, “your hurting me,” you winced.

Dutch put his hand on your face, “Blair, honey. I’m barely touching you. You’re skin and bone. Your barely eating enough to keep you going, let alone work a full day. Your gonna kill yourself!”

Hosea walked out the door, and closed it behind him. Leaving you in the parlour with Dutch.

You forced a smile, “its not for long, just until I turn 18. I’ll be fine, really.”

Dutch sighed, “Well at least let me buy you dinner, and get you a bath.”

You rolled your eyes, “ok,” you agreed.

“Why don't you go and give The Count a fuss, he missed you. He’s hitched just outside.” Dutch suggested.

You nodded, you hadn’t even noticed The Count, and Silver Dollar when you came to the lodging. Your mind must have been elsewhere.

You walked over to the two horses, and patted The Count on the neck. He nudged you with his nose, sending you flying backwards. You sat on the ground looking up at him. “That’s a fine welcome!” you chuckled.

Dutch came running out the house, followed by Hosea.

“Are you ok, Blair?” he asked, as he helped you to your feet.

You rolled your eyes, “Brute just caught me unawares.”

Hosea looked at you, shaking his head. He realised that you had now idea how weak and malnourished you had become, in such a short space of time.

“Dutch, why don't you get Blair a bath, and order some food, I’ll pickup some clean clothes, and meet you there.” Hosea suggested.

Dutch nodded, “good idea,” they looked at each other, knowingly.

“Come on Blair, lets head over to the hotel.” Dutch said, as he lifted you onto The Count.

Dutch mounted up behind you, and wrapped his arm around you.

You winced slightly.

“Sorry sweetheart, is that too tight,” he asked.

You nodded, “a little,”

Dutch loosened his grip slightly. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

You didn't reply, but leant slightly into his chest. It was warm, just like the arm wrapped around you. You didn't say anything, but you had missed him too.

He slowly pushed the count on, and you headed across the other side of town, to the hotel.

You were actually looking forward to a hot bath. It must have been at least 2 weeks, since you’d bathed properly. You were sure if Susan could see you now, she’d have a fit.

As Dutch rode towards the hotel, you relaxed into his arms. When he reached the hotel, Hosea was already there with some fresh clothes, he had bought from the tailors.

“Change of plan,” Dutch whispered to Hosea, trying not to disturb you, “lets head home, we can sort out a bath back at the house.”

Hosea nodded, “good idea. Poor kid is exhausted.”

You hummed, drifted between sleep and waking, “what’s going on?” you mumbled.

Dutch stroked your cheek, “we’re not quite there yet, honey. Just go back to sleep.”

you hummed, and relaxed into Dutch’s chest.

The two men, headed out of St. Denis and towards the new camp at Shady Belle.

When they got a little nearer, Hosea rode ahead, so by the time Dutch rode into camp they were expecting you. Although they weren’t quite expecting how you looked.

Dutch lifted you off The Count, and carried you into the big old plantation house.

You hummed, half awake, “why are you carrying me,” you asked.

Dutch chuckled, “Its just quicker, we need to get you in a bath,”

you sighed, not really having the energy to argue. “did I miss supper again?”

Dutch kissed you on the forehead, as he carried you through the house, “No honey, you can have supper after your bath.”

The room at the back of the house, was an old bathroom. Tilly and Mary-Beth, supervised by Susan, had filled the bath with hot water, and bubbles. As Dutch put you down, you could smell the vanilla scent.

Dutch started to undress you, and you started to protest.

“I can do that, at least you could turn your back!” you huffed.

Dutch laughed, “have you forgotten the Parlour House in Rhodes?”

You felt your face flush, as you remembered Dutch drawing you.

You smiled, “did you finish it?”

Dutch nodded, “I’ll show it to you later, if you like,”

You hummed, “I’d like that.”

Dutch helped you into the bath, the warm water soothed your aching body.

As you lay there, you heard a knock on the door. Susan opened the door and came inside.

She looked at you, then looked at Dutch.

“What happened to her, she looks terrible?”

Susan looked at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, and the strips of cloth you had used to bind yourself with. She wrinkled her nose, at the smell.

Dutch sighed, “you better get rid of those, no point washing them, they’re pretty disgusting. She’s almost worked herself to death, and hasn’t been eating.” he whispered.

Susan shook her head, “do you need anything else?”

“bring some food, to my room. She’s going to need to eat. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

Susan nodded, and left the room.

Dutch walked over to the bath. You were laying back in the bath, almost asleep.

He grabbed a wash cloth, and started to wash you.

“I can wash myself ya know,” you moaned, half heartedly.

“How about you let me pamper you, just this once,” he suggested.

You hummed and acknowledgement. You weren’t sure why you were so tired. Probably because you were usually in bed by now.

“I can’t be too late to bed,” you mumbled, “I have to start work at dawn.”

“Don’t worry about work, Blair,” Dutch whispered.

Once Dutch had finished bathing you, the bath water was a dark shade of brown. Almost two weeks of working with the horses, saw to that.

He wrapped a towel around you, then picked you up, and carried you upstairs to his room.

“Where are we going,” you asked, not even registering your surroundings.

Dutch smiled, “Well you need some supper, and then you can get some sleep.”

You looked around, as he carried you into the bedroom, trying to figure out were you where.

Susan had already placed a bowl of stew on the table.

Dutch sat you on the bed, and grabbed one of his shirts. The clothes that Hosea had bought were on a chair. He gazed at you, sitting on the bed naked. You looked so different now, to the girl he had drawn in the Parlour House in Rhodes. A week and a half of eating next to nothing, and doing physical work for 12 hours a day, had taken their toll. It wasn’t just you shoulders where the bones were protruding. Your ribs and hips were in the same state. Your face, had a gaunt look about it, where the cheekbones, now stuck out. Made to look worse by your short cropped hair.

Dutch gently put his shirt on you. It would have been to big for your normally, but now it just drowned you.

He passed you the bowl of stew, and you started to eat.

You ate it with gusto. Partly because you were hungry, but also because it tasted so much better, than what you had been eating. The food that you had been served at the lodging, was on a par to the stew that Pearson had cooked in the mountains, when there was hardly any meat. Just vegetables, floating around in water really.

Once you had finished eating, you lay down on the bed, without any extra encouragement.

Dutch lay next to you, half propped up on his elbow, his hand gently stroking your forehead, and hair. You found it really soothing. You opened your eyes, and touched your hand on his face.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, in response to what he’d said, when he first wrapped his arms around you in St. Denis.

Dutch kissed your forehead, “get some sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk in the morning.”

You closed your eyes, barely able to keep them open.

“you smell good,” you whispered.

Dutch chuckled, “so do you, now!”

As you drifted off to sleep, you wondered if you were dreaming, or if it was reality. His gentle voice, the smell of his cologne, and the touch of his hand, that you had missed so much.


	26. Chapter 26

Your body clock, so used to rising early, roused you just before dawn. Dutch’s arms were tightly wrapped around you. You wriggled, and opened your eyes, unaware of your surroundings.

Dutch kissed your collar bone, “go back to sleep,” whispered.

“But...” you started.

He chuckled, “no buts, your not going anywhere.” his hand brushed your thigh, as he slipped it under the shirt you were wearing, and he rested it gently on your stomach. You trembled, and moaned, pressing your back into his chest, as you felt your heartbeat race. But as the warmth of him radiated your body, you smiled. You had missed this more than you realised.

“I nearly lost you once, I’m not losing you again,” he purred.

You closed your eyes, as you felt his hand starting to rub circles on your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He hushed you, and your kissed neck, “close your eyes, sweetheart.”

You did as he asked, without any hesitation. It was still dark, and sleep came easily.

The brightness of the room, woke you. Although you screwed your eyes shut, trying to keep the light at bay. You had slept longer than you had for weeks. Your head hurt, mostly due to the suns rays. If you were honest, you hadn’t seen much of the sun, whilst you were in St. Denis. Rising before dawn, and being stuck inside the stables, until almost sunset.

You weren’t sure why, but you were surprised to still feel Dutch’s warmth next to you.

You were laying on your side, your head resting on his chest, your hand draped across his stomach. His hand was tracing patterns up and down your back.

His other hand gently stroking your cheek.

“You ready to wake up yet,” he chuckled.

You groaned, “head hurts.”

Dutch hummed, “you’re too thin, Blair. We need to get some meat on your bones.”

Your brought your hand to your forehead, and groaned. “too much sleep.”

Dutch chuckled, “get used to it, you’re going to be resting lots, until you’re well.”

You pulled your hand away, and forced your eyes open, frowning. “I’m not ill!” you retorted.

Dutch Sat up, gently removing your head from his chest, and laying it on the bed.

“You’re as weak as a kitten, you haven’t been eating enough, your body had started to shut down.” he lectured.

You sighed, “I’m just a bit tired, is all,” you protested.

Dutch took your hand, “come with me.” he urged.

You climbed off the bed, your hand in his. Dutch lead you to the opposite side of the room. He started to unbutton the shirt you were wearing.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop him.

He hushed you, “just trust me,” he whispered.

You let him finish unbutton the shirt. Once he had, he stood behind you. You were standing in front of a mirror. Dutch gently slid the shirt off your shoulders.

“look,” he whispered.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t actually recognised yourself. You were painfully thin. All your bones were sticking out. Your face looked pale. Your short hair, making it look worse.

A tear escaped your eye. “what happened to me?” you sniffled.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, “don’t worry, we’re gonna fix it?” he soothed, as he kissed the top of your head.

You sighed, and your shoulders sagged, “I look awful.”

Dutch turned you to face him, so your back was to the mirror.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, tilting your head gently upwards. “No, Blair. You’re beautiful, you’ve always been beautiful.” He gently pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

When your lips parted he smiled, and he wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body into his.

You rested your head into his chest, “I missed you so much,” you whispered, a tear trickled down your cheek. “I’m sorry...for everything.”

Dutch hushed you. “I missed you too,” He kissed the top of your head, and wiped the tear away with his thumb. “C’mon, get dressed, then you can have some food and I’ll show you around.”

You pulled away from Dutch, heading towards the chair, were you’re new clothes lay.

Even though the clothes that Hosea had bought for you were in your size. At least the size you were before you left. They still felt loose. You sighed, as you finished getting dressed.

Dutch smiled at you, in an attempt to make you feel better about yourself, but it really didn’t work.

His arm wrapped around you, which helped a little more.

As you made your way outside, you glanced back at the large plantation house. It was strange, being in a house in the middle of nowhere. There were still some tents, campfires, and of course, Pearson’s wagon. Which is where Dutch was leading you.

Thankfully, Hosea had advised eating little and often. Otherwise you could imagine Dutch expecting you to eat massive meals, just to get some weight back on you.

You still found it hard to believe, you had got so thin. Both Hosea, and Dutch were annoyed to say the least regarding what had happened, whilst you worked at the stables in St. Denis.

More the fact that they thought the stable owner, and the woman who ran the lodgings were taking advantage of the poor workers. A dollar for the food she was providing, was tantamount to robbery. Nor were they impressed with the wages, or the number of hours you were expected to work. They also thought that both the stable owner, and the landlady, were fully aware of the fact that you weren’t a boy. But still they thought it ok to work you into the ground.

You didn’t argue with them. You didn’t really have the energy.

You sat at the table, with Hosea and Dutch eating your stew. You glanced around the camp. Everyone was walking around, doing chores and different things. But you felt like they were avoiding you. You saw no sign of Arthur at all.

You sighed, “why is everyone avoiding me, do I look that awful, actually don’t answer that, I know I do.”

Hosea chuckled, “its true you don’t look well, but I told everyone to leave you alone, so you can get fed, and rested up. Once you’ve eaten you need to go and have a rest,” Hosea insisted.

You scowled, “that’s ridiculous, I slept all night and half of the morning nearly!” you argued, stifling a yawn.

Dutch smiled, “I saw that yawn. Don’t try and fight it Blair, you’ve hardly been eating, you’ve hardly slept. How many times did you miss supper, when you were staying at that god-damn lodging house.”

You felt your face flush, “a few times,” you mumbled.

Hosea narrowed his eyes, “it was more than a few, wasn’t it?”

You ignored him, and quickly changed the subject.

“Where’s Arthur. Are you two being civil to one another now?” you questioned, Dutch.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “I’ll talk to you about Arthur, in private.”

You frowned, “Why? Is Arthur alright?” you asked, slightly worried.

Dutch smiled, “he’s fine. But a lot of things happened before we moved. I just want you to be properly rested, first.”

You sighed, “I don’t suppose I get a choice?”

“No! You don’t!” Dutch and Hosea echoed together, chuckling.

You rolled your eyes, and stood up. As you turned to head back into the house, you noticed Dutch was following you.

“I’m quite capable of having a nap, by myself!” you huffed.

Dutch put his hand on your shoulder, “You’re also quite capable of throwing yourself in a lake, running off to St. Denis, and almost starving yourself to death!” he exclaimed.

You sighed, “I’m under some sort of house arrest then, am I?”

Dutch gently squeezed your shoulder, “No, but I do intend to look after you, whether you like it or not.”

You said nothing, even though you were slightly annoyed. The main reason was because as he guided you up the stairs to the bedroom. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy again.

When you reached the bedroom, you sat on the edge of the bed. You went to pull your boots off, but Dutch stopped you.

“Here, let me.” he suggested.

After he’d pulled your boots off, you lay on the bed.

“Did Hosea put something in my food, I’m feeling sleepy.” you asked.

Dutch sat on the edge of the bed, and stroked your forehead. “Just a little something, to help you relax,”

You groaned, “Its a conspiracy! You, Hosea, probably Josiah as well.”

Dutch smiled, “we’re just looking out for you, we care about you.”

He kissed you on the forehead, “now close your eyes,” he whispered.

You didn’t need much telling, as your eyelids were heavy anyway. As you drifted off, you could feel Dutch’s hand stroking your face, soothing you off to sleep.

You slept soundly for several hours. When you woke it was still light, you had no idea what time it was. But in reality, it didn’t really matter as all you seemed to do at the moment was eat and sleep.

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see Dutch and Arthur in the room, talking to one another in hushed voices.

As soon as Dutch saw that you were awake, he came over to the bed.

“We didn’t wake you, did we?” he asked, a look of concern on his face,

You shook your head, looking at Dutch, then glancing at Arthur, “what’s going on?”

Dutch smiled, “Arthur just needs to have a little chat, with you.”

He stood up, and patted Arthur on the shoulder, “go on, son. I’ll go and get her some food.”

Arthur nodded, and headed towards the bed. He sat down on the edge, smiling at you.

You frowned at him, “Whats going on?” you asked, sitting up.

Arthur gently took your hand, “you don’t look so good, whatever happened?” he asked.

“I know, I look terrible,” you looked down at the floor, and sighed.

Arthur put his finger under your chin, and gently tilted it upward, “even on a bad day, you look more beautiful, than anyone I’ve ever seen,” he said, smiling.

You felt your face flush, “have you and Dutch stopped hating each other?” you asked.

Arthur nodded, but he frowned at you, “what happened after I left you at the lake, Blair?”

You sighed, “I thought if I wasn’t around, that you two would stop fighting over me.”

Arthur shook his head, and smiled “this world doesn’t deserve you Blair, Your so beautiful, innocent and kind.”

Arthur stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, “you have to listen to me now.” he whispered.

You looked him in the eye. They were so blue, that’s what you first noticed about him.

Arthur chuckled, “the last time you looked at me like that, Blair...” he hesitated, gazing at your face.

“I can see why Dutch has fallen in love with you,” he concluded smiling.

You frowned, “he has?”

Arthur nodded, “he may not have said the words to you yet, but he has.”

You felt your face heat up, you probably knew it already, the hurt look on his face when you had told him, you wanted to marry someone you loved.

“Do you love him?” Arthur asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know what loving someone feels like, I missed him though.”

Arthur smiled, “How would you feel, if you could never see him again, or if he didn’t want to be with you anymore?”

“I...I thought you said he loved me,” you stuttered, a veil of sadness crossed your face.

Arthur chuckled, “he does, and I think you probably love him too. He has no intention of leaving you, or being with someone else.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “What about you, Arthur? Have you fallen in love with me too?” you whispered, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Arthur smiled, “I’m sorry Blair, you’re beautiful, but I don’t love you like that. I’d take you to my bed in an instant. Your so sweet and innocent, and you have the most gorgeous body, but I love someone else, who sadly doesn’t love me.”

You blushed, “I’m sorry, that she doesn’t love you, but I guess Dutch is happy you don’t love me.”

“He’d be more happy, if he knew you that you loved him.” Arthur smirked.

You didn’t have time to respond, as Dutch walked in the door with a plate of food.

You gazed at him, your face was still as red as a beetroot, and the colour didn’t really stand any chance of fading. Your heart was beating so hard, you thought it might explode out of chest at any time. You wondered if Arthur was right. You wondered if you had fallen in love with Dutch, without even realising it.


	27. Chapter 27

Arthur whispered in your ear, “just tell him.”

He stood up, and smiled at Dutch, as he walked towards the door.

“Hold up, son. I’ll walk with you.” Dutch urged.

Dutch brought you the plate of food. “Is everything ok?” he asked.

You quickly hummed acknowledgement, and grabbed the plate. Right now you couldn’t look him in the eye. You were surprised that you were hungry, so you started to eat. At least that way you wouldn’t have to talk. You wondered if Dutch knew what Arthur was going to say. You weren’t sure what you were feeling, nervousness, excitement, fear even. You wished Arthur hadn’t said anything.

You glanced up every so often, to make sure they were both leaving, which it appeared they were.

Once they had both left the room you finished the food, and put the empty plate on the side.

You got up from the bed, and quickly found your boots. The temptation was to run. But you realised that running every time you were nervous or scared was stupid. You’d run off to Valentine, and Dutch fetched you back, then to St. Denis.

He obviously cared about you, but did he really love you, he hadn’t said it. More to the point did you really love him, you had missed him, missed his arms wrapped around you. But after you went to the lake, you didn’t see him again until St. Denis.

You needed to stop thinking about this, get some air.

You walked out of the bedroom, into a sitting room. There were doors that lead out onto a balcony.

You opened one of the doors, and stepped out. You could see the whole camp from here, and beyond.

You walked to the edge of the balcony, and leaned on the balustrade, looking around. You saw Arthur and Dutch talking. You smiled, you were glad they were back on good terms.

You watched as they both glanced up at you.

You were about to wave, when Dutch yelled at you.

“Blair, stop! Don’t move, I’m coming up!”

You frowned as you watched him run into the house.

As he came smashing through the doors that led out onto the balcony, you turned to face him.

He grabbed you and spun you around so your back was to the wall of the house.

You gasped, “what’s the matter?”

He looked scared, you’d never seen him look like that before.

“After the lake, I thought...” he sighed, and closed his eyes, “I love you Blair, I don’t want to lose you.”

His hand touched your face, then his lips crashed against yours. Your gasped at the intensity of his kiss. As your hand touched his chest, you felt his tongue dart across yours. You kissed him back, as both his hands raked through your hair.

You lips parted, and his face was just inches away from your own, his hands still holding your head.

“Say it, Blair. Just say it?” he demanded.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you heart started pounding. His mouth went to your neck, gently biting and kissing you.

“Say it!” he whispered.

You swallowed, “I… I.”

You gasped again, as one of his hands moved from your head, and slid up the back of your shirt, his fingers tracing circles on the bare skin of your back.

You trembled, and moaned as his kisses moved to the front of your throat.

“Don’t fight it Blair, just tell me!” he growled.

“I…I Love you,” you whispered.

Dutch stopped kissing you, and took his hand away from your back. He cupped your face in his hands, and looked you in the eyes.

“Tell me again,” he whispered.

You blinked, looking in his eyes which held your gaze.

“I love you Dutch,” you whispered.

You had barely finished the sentence, when his lips were on yours again. He lifted you up, and carried you bridal style back into the house, still kissing you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. Not because you thought you might fall, but because you wanted to.

Dutch carried you back through to the bedroom, and lay you down on the bed. He pulled off your boots, and started to undress you.

“D… Does this mean, I...I’m ready?” you stuttered, catching your breath, as you lay there naked on the bed, staring at him.

Dutch smiled, as he removed his gun belt and shirt, “I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean I can’t lay with you, and kiss you all over. Then who knows.”

Dutch knelt on the bed and hovered over you, sliding his hands underneath your body, one each side.

You gasped, as you felt his rings touch your bare back. It was an unusual sensation, as his hands were warm.

“Your rings, are so cold,” you gasped.

Dutch chuckled, “but everything else is warm.”

He leant over, and gently bit your bottom lip before kissing you. You hungrily kissed him back.

You felt one of his hands slide down your back, and settle on your bottom, gently kneading your cheek.

“So soft, so beautiful,” he whispered.

His lips planted gentle kisses down your neck, and onto your shoulder blades.

Your whole body trembled, and the noise that left your lips was a cross between a whimper and a moan.

Dutch chuckled, “such sweet noises, shall we try something else?”

He started to kiss your stomach. Peppering the whole area with kisses. You moaned and your body trembled, his hands gently stroked your back.

His mouth moved up to your breast, his tongue flicking at each erect nipple, then grazed them with his teeth.

You squealed, as you felt the knot beginning to tighten in your abdomen, as your core started to tingle.

Dutch slowly slid his hands downwards, both hands caressing your hips and thighs.

He quickly glanced at your face, checking for any sign tension, but there was none.

“So beautiful,” he cooed, as tongue entered your folds, and flicked your bud. Gently at first, then sucking at it harder.

Your hips bucked, and you gripped the bed, as every nerve in your core, buzzed as the pressure started to build.

His grip on you, was gentle but firm, holding you in place, as he licked your juices.

“You taste so good,” he purred.

You tried to speak, “D… Du...” your moan, turning into a whimper as his tongue went to work.

Pleasure surged through your whole body. You cried out, as your release exploded, sending you over the edge.

Dutch smiled, as he watched you come apart in his hands.

You zoned out, breathless and sweating. When you came back, Dutch had his arms wrapped around you, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead.

“So beautiful, so perfect,” he purred.

“What about you...” You began.

Dutch hushed you, “don’t you worry about me, sweet-pea, this was all about you.” he whispered.

“I… I love you,” you purred.

Dutch rubbed your back, “I love you too, baby girl,”

You rested your head on his chest, as it gently rose and fell. You closed your eyes, exhausted. Next time, you decided, it would be all about him, this man who loved you, who thought of you, before he thought of himself.

As his hands gently rubbed circles on your back, you relaxed deeper into the warmth of his body, until you let sleep take you once again.


	28. Chapter 28

The light that permeated the bedroom gave everything an orange glow, as the sun set.

Despite being naked, and the lack of hot sun to warm the house. You didn’t feel cold, as heat radiated from Dutch’s body, his arms wrapped around you, and yours wrapped around him.

You realised as you woke, that Dutch was already awake. He must have noticed the change, when you awoke, because he started to move his fingertips up and down your back, causing you to squirm.

He chuckled, “ticklish are you?”

You giggled, “No!”

Dutch hummed, “you shouldn’t lie to me, Blair.”

His fingers drifted around to your waist and stomach, as he tickled you mercilessly.

You squealed, and squirmed. His response was a chuckle, that was almost a growl.

Dutch stopped, as you lay there gasping for breath.

“Now, tell me? Are you ticklish, Blair?” he questioned, a growl in his voice.

You nodded, “yes, but please don’t!” You begged.

Dutch chuckled, “you better get up then, before I change my mind.”

You scooted out of bed, and put some clothes on.

“You’re a very mean man, Dutch Van Der Linde,” you smirked.

Dutch lay on the bed, watching you get dressed. “I’ll remember that, next time you beg for mercy,” he chuckled.

You turned around, and poked your tongue out at him, giggling.

Dutch jumped off the bed, and ran towards you. You squealed, as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms at your sides. He hummed, “now what shall I do with you?”

You gazed at him, with soulful eyes.

He chuckled, “you’ll look at me like that once too often.” he released your arms, then cupped your cheek in his hand. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, which you returned, resting your hand on his cheek.

You both stopped, hearing a knock on the door. Dutch grabbed his shirt.

“Yes,” he called out, smirking at you.

“It's Arthur,” came the voice from the other side of the door.

Dutch chuckled, “we’ll be out in a minute.” he replied.

Dutch put on his gun belt, and waistcoat. He held out his hand, which you took. He opened the door into the sitting room.

Arthur stood there smiling as you both walked through, hand in hand.

“Hosea wanted me to make sure you brought Blair down for some supper, and he wants to talk to you about the ball tomorrow night!” Arthur concluded.

“Crap,” Dutch grumbled, “I’d forgotten about that.”

You tilted your head to one side, “A ball? Can I go?” you asked excitedly.

Dutch hummed, as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “c’mon, lets go and talk to Hosea.”

Hosea looked at Dutch, then at you, “No, its too risky. Blair needs to keep a low profile, at least for a couple of months,” he concluded.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “It’s a ball at the Mayors house, where’s the risk?”

“Please Hosea,” you begged, “I’ve never been to a ball! I could pretend to be your manservant.”

Dutch laughed, “No way, if you go Blair, you’ll be on my arm, wearing a ballgown.”

You frowned, “A dress! Seriously?”

Arthur chuckled, “I bet you’ll look lovely, I’ve never seen you dressed like a girl!”

You scowled at him.

Hosea couldn’t help but smile. “I still think its risky, but if you insist, I’ll ask Josiah to go into St. Denis and get a gown for Blair, in the morning.”

Dutch smiled, “good, a gown it is. But you’re to stay with me, all evening Blair.”

You nodded, half smiling. Not sure that you liked the idea of a ballgown, but going to a party, sounded like fun.

The following day, Dutch was busy with Hosea. Planning stuff apparently. Hosea was less insistent on you taking naps, as your body seemed to have caught up with itself.

He wasn’t so lenient about the food. Even when he wasn’t encouraging you to eat, Susan or Pearson would come and find you with a plate of food.

You spent most of the morning, keeping an eye on the main entrance to Shady Belle, waiting for Josiah to return with your gown.

You made out to everyone, than you really didn’t care about it. It was just a dress, and you didn’t do dresses. Deep down though, you were kind of excited. You vaguely remembered a distant memory, of your mama attending a ball. You didn’t remember everything, but you knew that she had looked really pretty. You hoped it wasn’t too revealing. Not for any other reason than you didn’t want people to see how thin you were. Although you chuckled to yourself, realising you didn’t mind now, being naked in front of Dutch.

When Josiah finally rode back into Shady Belle, it was early afternoon. You ran to the hitching area to meet him.

“Let me see, let me see,” you squealed excitedly.

Josiah chuckled, “lets take it inside, you don’t want it getting dirty, before you’ve even put it on.”

You grinned, and grabbed Josiah’s arm.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven, for telling Dutch and Hosea where you were?” He asked.

You smiled, and hugged his arm, “of course, I didn’t realise I looked so awful.”

Josiah hummed, “I was tempted to whisk you back here, there and then,” he concluded.

Once you were inside the house, Josiah set the box down and opened it.

You gently put your hands on the fabric, your eyes wide in awe.

The electric blue colour of the satin material, almost reflected the suns rays, causing it to shimmer.

You grinned at Josiah, “its beautiful,” you whispered.

Josiah smiled, “only the best for you! Now take it upstairs and I’ll ask a couple of the ladies to help you get ready.”

You grabbed the box, and headed for the stairs. You suddenly turned back to look at Josiah.

“Make sure Dutch doesn’t see me, until we’re ready to go?” You asked.

Josiah grinned, “Its always important for a lady to make a grand entrance, I’ll make sure he doesn’t see you.”

The sun was just setting, when you finally finished getting ready. Susan and Mary-Beth helped you to dress. The gown was a perfect fit. It dropped just off your shoulders, Electric Blue, with silver accents. You wore a pair of long silver gloves. They combined nicely with the silver locket, that you always wore around your neck.

“How do I look?” you asked nervously.

Mary-Beth grinned, “You look...You look absolutely beautiful,” she cooed

Susan nodded in agreement, “you look amazing, Blair. Now lets not keep the gentlemen waiting.”

You walked down the stairs, gently lifting the folds of your dress, so you didn’t trip over.

Arthur, Dutch and Hosea stood at the bottom of the stairs. There was a gasp as they saw you come down the stairs. Dutch gazed at you, unable to take his eyes off you.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he walked over to you. You couldn’t believe how could he looked, in his dress suit. He put his hand on your waist.

“you look gorgeous, I’m tempted to take you straight back upstairs, and rip that dress right off of you,” he whispered in your ear, grinning.

You felt your face heat up. You bit your lip.

“I think we should go, don’t you?” Hosea suggested, grinning at you and Dutch.

Dutch removed his hand from your waist and offered you his arm.

“Shall we,” he purred.

You took his arm and followed Hosea and Arthur out of the house.

Outside, there was a carriage. You weren’t sure where it had come from, but Dutch helped you inside. You sat with him on one side, whilst Arthur and Hosea sat on the other side. Once you were all seated the carriage, slowly moved off. Heading towards St. Denis and the Mayors house.

When the carriage came to a halt, you looked out the window. The mayors house was very grand, and there were throngs of people everywhere. The women looked very elegant, you wondered if you would fit it.

Dutch was the first to get out the carriage, then he offered you his hand.

As you headed towards the gates, the men on the gate insisted that Dutch, Arthur and Hosea hand over their guns.

You could see by the look on their faces that they weren’t happy. But it was either that, or not go in.

Once you were inside, you noticed a younger man, heading towards you.

“Mr Van Der Linde, so glad you could make it, Mr Bronte is waiting for you,” he beamed.

Dutch held your arm tightly, and he followed the man. Hosea and Arthur, weren’t far behind.

The young man guided you through the large mansion, and up some stairs towards a balcony.

As you stepped out onto the balcony, an older man came forward to greet Dutch.

“Ahh Mr Van Der Linde, so glad you could make it.” he said, shaking Dutch’s hand.

He spoke with a foreign accent. You assumed this was Mr Bronte.

He stared at you, then glanced at Dutch.

“I’m sure your little lady doesn’t want to be bored with talk of business.”

He looked at the man, who had just lead you to the balcony.

“Carlos, take the young lady downstairs, and introduce her to the other ladies. Make sure she has a glass of champagne,” he ordered.

You looked at Dutch, he’d said for you not to leave his side.

Dutch smiled at you, “I’ll only be about 5 or 10 minutes.”

You nodded, and followed Carlos, from the balcony.

As soon as the doors to the balcony closed, Carlos roughly grabbed your arm.

“Come with me, you little bitch!” he growled.

You screamed, “Dutch! Help!”

Carlos quickly put his hand over your mouth. You glanced back towards the balcony doors, to see them being blocked by another one of Bronte’s men with a gun, pointed at Dutch.

You tried to struggle, not sure what was worse, you being grabbed or the thought that Dutch might be shot.

Once you had been manhandled down the stairs, he pushed you towards an exit.

Before you reached it you froze.

Staring at you, from the door was your grandfather.

He strode towards you, and grabbed your arm from Carlos.

“Do you know the trouble you’ve caused, you stupid little slut?” he growled.

You felt his hand collide with your face, then he dragged you towards the door.

“You can’t do this!” you screamed.

He stared at you, “Just you watch me, by this time tomorrow you’ll be married, and I’ll have shares in Cornwall Kerosene and Tar!” he hissed.

Before you could protest anymore, you felt something wet pressed across your nose and mouth. Your vision blurred, before darkness enveloped you.


	29. Chapter 29

You opened your eyes, you were grateful that it was dark, the room only illuminated by a lantern. It was the only thing you were grateful for. The darkness eased the pain ripping through your head, although it didn’t do much for your throbbing face, where your grandfather had hit you. You recognised the room, almost instantly. It was the room in the lodging house, where you had stayed whilst working at the stables.

You tried to move, but your hands were bound behind your back, and no surprise, your ankles were tied together too. You still wore the Dress that Josiah had bought for you, the gloves were on the side table. You knew that already though, as you could feel the rope cutting into your wrists.

As you heard the door opening, your gaze snapped in that direction. You watched as your grandfather, and the woman who owned the lodging house walked in.

She scowled at you, “do you require anything thing else, Mr McMahon,” she asked, glancing at your grandfather.

“No thank you,” he replied.

She looked at you, and rolled her eyes, “Billy!” she hissed under her breath, as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

You narrowed your eyes, and glared at your grandfather, “why, why are you doing this, have you got no feeling for me at all?” you hissed.

Your grandfather laughed mirthlessly.

“You stupid, naive little girl, you have no idea do you,” he mocked.

You glared at him, “you must really hate me.”

He shook his head, “I neither love nor hate you, Blair. You are merely a business deal, you always have been, from the day you were born!”

You stared at him, incredulously, “what do you mean, my mother never would have agreed to what your doing!” you scoffed.

Your grandfather hummed. “You’re right, she didn’t. Which is why she had to be disposed of. You didn’t really think your white trash of a father had the brains to come up with the plan, nor his hick of a girlfriend. They were happy to carry it out though, even for that shithole of a ranch in the mountains!”

“You...You, it was you all along,” you sobbed, “you killed your own daughter!”

He rolled his eyes, “If she hadn’t been so goddamn stubborn, she’d still be alive. If you hadn’t been such a nosy eavesdropper, then you wouldn’t have run off. I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree there!”

Tears ran down your face, as you sobbed. What sort of family had you been born into. You blinked back the tears, “He won’t let you get away with it, he’ll come and find me!” you hissed.

Your grandfather chuckled. “You were good, Blair. Credit where credit is due, you were always one step ahead of me, you and you’re outlaw’s. I picked the wrong gang though. When I found out you’d made it to you’re fathers ranch in the mountain, I made an arrangement with Colm O ‘Driscoll. He was to grab you, and kill your father and his whore. Didn’t plan on Dutch Van Der Linde coming to the rescue, like a knight in fucking shining armour! Then when his idiot English accomplice tried to con me with the goldmine, I played dumb. Figured when he tried to marry you for the money, I’d grab you. Only he didn’t did he.”

You scowled at him, “you shouldn’t expect people to be as vile as you. He didn’t even want the money, he wanted me!”

Your grandfather laughed, “of course he wanted the money, that’s why he won’t come and get you. I left a little pay-off with Angelo Bronte, to give to your outlaw. Just watch him take the money and run.”

Your face paled, “he won’t,” You whispered, “he loves me.”

“Of course he does, as long as you have your little nest egg waiting. Were you really stupid enough to think he wanted you, look at you, you’re worthless, ugly little whore. You couldn’t even look after yourself when you tried to make it alone. Billy Adams for Christs sake!” He scoffed.

“You knew?” You cried, your voice cracking at your grandfathers cruel comments.

He rolled his eyes, “of course I knew, the same as these fine people knew you weren’t a boy. I missed grabbing you by one day, one fucking day!” he growled.

“Well I hope your business partner isn’t expecting a virgin, because if he is, he’ll be fucking disappointed,” you snarled.

You watched at your grandfather’s face turned red with anger. He walked over and slapped you hard around the face. You felt blood, on your lip.

“You fucking little whore,” he growled. “but I don’t really care, once your married to him, your money becomes his, he can fuck you, kill you or sell you to Alberto Fussar to work on his plantation in Guarma for all I care. I doubt he’ll even want to look at you, you’re disgusting! But tomorrow you will be marrying Leviticus Cornwall, even if I have to drag you down the aisle in chains,” he hissed.

He walked towards the door, “sleep well,” he scoffed, “you have a big day tomorrow, Princess!”

He walked out the room closing the door behind him, you heard a click, as the door locked. Even if you could get free of these ropes, there was no way you would get out of this room.

You glanced to the other side of the room, you couldn’t believe it. He’d actually left a wedding dress, laid on the chair, as if to torment you. You licked the blood from the corner of your mouth. You closed your eyes, sobbing to yourself. This was it, this was the end of your life. Maybe your grandfather was telling the truth, why would anyone want you, the way you looked right now. Unless it was for the money. Now your grandfather had paid them off, you were well and truly alone. You felt tears running down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, as you cried yourself to sleep.


	30. Chapter 30

You didn’t sleep much that night, Your sleep being plagued by bad dreams. The words of your grandfather echoing in your ears. Worthless, ugly, whore. Only in your dreams it wasn’t those words coming out of his mouth, they were coming out of Dutch’s.

Your grandfather had all but brainwashed you into thinking he didn’t care for you. There was still a faint spark of hope, but as time went on that spark was slowly fading.

As the sun rose, the light seeped into the bedroom window, lighting the room.

Last night the headache was due to whatever they used to knock you out. This morning it was due to the constant crying. That had now stopped. Crying wouldn’t change the situation you were in. You didn’t care about the money, your only hope was that once you had married your grandfathers slimy business associate, you could make a break for freedom, either in this world or the next.

You were snapped from your thoughts as you heard the door click. Your grandfather opened the door, and walked in. He pulled out a knife, and walked over to the bed, roughly rolling you over so he could cut the ropes on your wrists, followed by the ones on your ankles.

“Get dressed,” he monotoned, “or I’ll send one of my men in to dress you,” he threatened.

You sat up, rubbing your wrists, trying to rub the rope burns away.

“I’ll do it,” you whispered.

He headed back to the door, he glowered at you.

“Ten minutes,” he hissed, as he closed the door behind him.

You heard the click again, and sighed.

You quickly looked out the window, to the street below. You still had a faint glimmer of hope that someone might come for you, but that was soon dashed when you saw the deserted street below. In any case, they would have no idea where you were. That’s even if Dutch was still alive. You remembered seeing the gun, through the French doors and shuddered.

Having said that, if your grandfather had paid him off, then why should you care. But you did. He’d made you fall in love with him, whether he really loved you or not. You guessed you’d never know. Not now.

You took off the dress which Josiah had bought you and grabbed the wedding dress, which you started to put it on.

If it had been in different circumstances, you would have thought it quite pretty. But today you hated it, and everything it represented. You slipped on the white shoes that had also been left out for you.

You didn’t have to wait long for your grandfather to return. You also noticed two bully-ish looking men standing outside the door.

One of the men followed your grandfather in.

“Tie her up, and gag her,” your grandfather hissed.

“What!” you squealed.

“Don’t want you saying the wrong thing, do we,” he smirked.

The ruffian grabbed you wrists and tied them tightly. You winced has the rope cut in to you’re already sore wrists.

“Please don’t!” you begged.

Your grandfather looked at you and smirked. “Bring her down to the carriage when you’re done, and hurry up.” he growled.

The man shoved a cloth in your mouth and tied it in place. He picked up a veil, and put it on you, so that it hid your face. No one would be able to see the gag.

He roughly grabbed your arm, and dragged you downstairs to the waiting carriage, and shoved you inside.

You weren’t sure where you were expecting to be taken. You just prayed for it to be over, and soon. When you pulled up in front of the Church of the Holy Blessed Virgin, you were a little surprised.

You figured that your grandfather must be super confident that no one was going to disturb his plans. Any hope you may have had, was obliterated in that moment.

As the carriage pulled up, you were surprised you didn’t get dragged out straight away. In fact your grandfather sat there, pulling out his pocket watch a couple of times, as though he was waiting for something.

You looked around, what the hell was he waiting for.

Eventually the doors of the church opened, and still he waited.

Then another carriage turned up. A man got out, he was fat, quite old. He hair was grey, as was his beard. This had to be him. That’s what your grandfather was waiting for.

The man headed into the church. Your grandfather opened the carriage door, and grabbed your arm, dragging you out.

You tried to say something, but the gag just muffled it to an unintelligible noise.

Your grandfather scowled at you. “Keep quiet,” he hissed, as he dragged you towards the open church doors.

As you entered the church the heavy wooden doors crashed closed behind you. What was weird was that the church held a congregation. They look at you and your grandfather, walking up the aisle as though nothing was wrong.

The priest, however looked decidedly un-nerved. You figured, that your grandfather had paid the congregation, for whatever reason. To make it look authentic, you supposed. You guessed he had also paid the priest. But how much. Enough for him to do something which was against everything that his religious orders stood for.

Maybe that was the weak link. Your way out.

As you reached the alter, you were shoved next to the fat businessman. Your grandfather, finally releasing your arm.

“Get on with it,” he growled, “and make it the short version.”

You tried to say something, but once again, all you managed to do was make a noise.

The priest became a little more pale, “this is highly irregular,” he whispered.

“and the donation to your church, is highly large,” your grandfather scoffed, “just get on with it!”

The priest looked at you sympathetically, then opened the bible he was holding and started to speak.

“We are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join together Leviticus Cornwall and Blair Adler in holy matrimony. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore, if anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The priest hesitated.

“Yes, I can show just cause,” Dutch hissed, as he stepped from the congregation, his revolver in his hand.

Some women in the congregation screamed.

The priest gasped, “Please, don’t kill anyone, this is a house of god!” he exclaimed.

“Keep calm, and stay where you are, then no-one will get hurt.

You spun around, but you grandfather grabbed your arm. Tears pricked your eyes, as you looked at Dutch.

“How the fuck did you get in here,” your grandfather snarled.

Dutch strode towards you, and you watched as Arthur stood up from one of the pews in the church.

“Take your fucking hands off my woman,” Dutch growled, “or I’ll blow your fucking head off, house of god, or not!”

Your grandfather, stepped back. Neither of the two men had come into the church armed, and you’re grandfathers men, were outside the church guarding the door.

You jumped as you heard the church doors crash open, only to breath a sigh of relief as you saw, Charles and Javier come bursting in.

Dutch glanced at Charles and Javier, “Get this pair of inbred trash outta here, you know what to do.”

Dutch holstered his gun, and pulled out his knife, as he cut the ropes from your wrist.

He pulled off the veil, and as he removed the gag, you let out a sob.

He shushed you as he wrapped his arms around you pressing your head into his chest, and kissing you on the forehead, “It’s ok, its all over.” he soothed, trying to comfort you.

“He said I was an ugly, worthless whore. He said you couldn’t possibly love me, and that he’d paid you off.” you sobbed, as you broke down, uncontrollably.

Dutch cupped your cheek in his hand, “you know that ain’t true, don’t ya?”

You nodded, gently.

“I love you, baby girl. I’d search this whole earth until I found you again,” he whispered.

His lips crashed against yours, in savage kiss. You kissed him back, as you tongues tasted each other, mimicking each others movements as your lips moved in sync.

You only stopped when you heard the priest clear his throat.

Dutch looked up and chuckled.

He held his hand up to the priest, signalling him to wait.

Dutch took both your hands in his, and gazed into your eyes.

“What do you say Blair? Seems a shame to waste such a pretty dress! Will you marry me, right here, right now?”

He kissed your hands.

You gasped, “What! I… Yes, yes I will, I love you Dutch!”

Dutch smiled, and looked at the priest, “Would you mind, reverend?”

The priest smiled, “of course, the short version?”

Dutch chuckled, “No, don’t think she’d ever forgive me if we rushed this.”

The priest smiled, “what’s your name sir,” he asked.

Dutch smiled, “Dutch Van Der Linde.”

The priest nodded. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join together Dutch Van Der Linde and Blair Adler in holy matrimony. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore...”

Dutch cleared his throat, and the priest looked up. “Dutch shook his head,” he wasn’t going to take any chances.

The priest nodded, and continued. “Dutch Van Der Linde, do you take Blair Adler for your lawful wedded wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honour, comfort, and cherish her from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“No!” a screech came from the back of the hall, “I didn’t go through hell, just to let that bastard have your money,” Sadie screamed.

Both you and Dutch spun around and watched as she raised the rifle, and pulled the trigger.

You heard two shots ring out, one from the rifle, the other from the gun in Arthur’s hand as he shot Sadie.

The pain that you had felt when you almost drowned, and the pain you felt when Kieran stabbed you, was nothing compared to the pain that you felt now.

Your cried out, as your hand clutched at your stomach, as the red stain spread on the white wedding dress you were wearing. Your hands pressed to the spot, trying to hold your life source inside, but to no avail. As the sticky red substance, which was your blood, trickled across your fingers, you collapsed to the floor.

You looked up at Dutch, you saw the horror on his face, “I… I L… Love you,” you groaned, as your felt the cold concrete of the church floor on your face.

You felt Dutch’s hand on your face, “No, No… Blair, sweetheart stay with me, Please… Hold on,” he cried.

Those were the last words you heard, before your vision blurred, and everything went black.


	31. Chapter 31

The darkness was preferable. You felt nothing. But every so often the pain would bring you back. Then the darkness wouldn’t come, as the pain kept it at bay.

You heard screaming, you wondered where it was coming from until you realised the screams were yours. Only because it didn’t sound like you. Hell, it didn't even sound human. It sounded like some demon dragged from the pits of hell. Throaty, guttural and tormented.  
But you were tormented. Held down by the people who had said that they loved you, cared for you. But how could they, when they were doing this.  
  
You struggled as they held you down on the table. Javier held your arms, Arthur held your hips. Hosea tried to dig the bullet out of your stomach, ignoring your screams, or at least trying to. Screams that every so often would turn into sobs, despite Dutch’s soothing words.

You wanted to tell them to stop, but you couldn’t speak any words. None that were intelligible anyway. So you thrashed your head from side to side. The whisky soaked rag Dutch had given you, which did nothing to ease the pain, had long since dropped from your mouth. You now started to bang your head on the table. Lifting it up and crashing it down in hopes that if your head hurt, it would take away the unbearable pain in your stomach. Dutch soon put a stop to that, holding your head still. Firmly but gently.  
“Don’t sweetheart. You’ll hurt yourself,” he soothed, the cracks in his voice becoming stronger.

So all you could do was scream and sob. Tears running down your face, that you barely noticed. All you noticed was the pain. You didn’t even notice the sound of metal on metal, as Hosea dropped the bullet into a metal bowl. Or his sigh of relief, knowing it was finally done.

Then the white hot pain which was too much to bear. The last sensation before the darkness came and took you again, was the smell of burning flesh.  
  
Your breathing was shallow and ragged. The hole in your stomach, now stitched and covered with a bandage. The white wedding dress, long since removed you lay semi naked on the bed. Moved from the kitchen to the bedroom you shared with Dutch at Shady Belle.

How long he sat with you, you had no idea. Every so often, you would wake, feel water on your lips, a cool rag on your head, before the darkness sucked you back under.

Occasionally you would hear some one ask;

“Any change?”

The answer would always be in the negative, as the fever took hold.

In your brief moments, of lucidity, he was always there. You didn’t always see him, but you could smell his scent, cologne and cigars. You would hear his deep voice, cracking in response to some question. Feel his touch on your face.

You weren’t quite sure how long it had been, but despite the fever, you were lucid.

You looked at Dutch, tears pooling in his eyes, as though he knew.

“Hosea,” you whispered, “I need to speak with him...alone.”

Dutch frowned at you, but nodded.

You watched as Hosea walked towards the bed.

He sat down gently, on the edge.

“I need...I want Dutch to have everything, I need you to write it down.” You whispered.

Hosea gazed at you, sadness veiled his face. “You don’t need to do this, you’re gonna be fine,” he whispered.

You smiled at him, “we both know that isn’t true,” you whispered.

Hosea nodded, and grabbed a piece of paper. Writing quickly.

“You’ll need to sign it,” he whispered.

You took the pen, and scratched your signature, across the bottom. It was shaky, but legible as yours.

You handed the pen back to Hosea, “You’ll look after him, you and Arthur?” You asked, “He’ll be ok, as long as you’re both with him.”

He nodded, as a tear escaped his eye. You’d never seen Hosea cry, he had always been strong.

“I need to speak with Arthur,” you added.

Hosea stood up and walked to the door. He turned back to look at you, as though he was about to say something. But he changed his mind.

It wasn’t long before Arthur came back in. He sat on the bed and held your hand.

You smiled at him, “you lied, didn’t you?” you asked.

You could see tears filling Arthur’s eyes, being held back by a sheer force of will.

“I had to,” he replied, “for him, he needed you more than I did. He still does.” he whispered, looking away.

“Your a good man Arthur, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” you whispered.

Arthur kissed your hand. “You should be with Dutch, I’ll go get him.”

Dutch walked back into the bedroom, you felt yourself fading, there were so many things you wanted to say.

He sat on the bed and touched your face.

“I wish... I wish we could have had more time,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you said, tears beginning to fall, “I wish I had told you sooner.”

Dutch gently kissed you on the lips.

Your eyelids started to flutter, as you felt cold.

“Hold me, I feel cold,” you whispered.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, he was so warm compared to how cold you were beginning to feel.

“I love you, Blair. Never forget that.” he cried.

You felt yourself getting colder, no even Dutch’s embrace could warm you up, as you slipped into darkness for the last time.


	32. Epilogue

The sun dropped low in the sky, reflecting in the water, as it rushed headlong over the rocks, plunging over the edge as it hit the lower Montana river below.

The waterfall was beautiful.

Dutch looked between the grave and the waterfall.

“Blair would have loved this spot,” he sighed.

Arthur and Hosea nodded.

Blair had given them so much.

Dutch probably shouldn’t have told Javier and Charles to kill Blair’s grandfather, when they left the church that day, but he did.

Blair knew it too, but she never said anything, she didn’t really have time to.

It meant that all of Oliver McMahon estate, went to Blair. Millions of dollars worth of property and land.

Dutch wasn’t able to do anything when Blair had finally slipped away, dying in his arms. So Hosea had dealt with everything. The last thing she was able to do, was to give the gang the place they had so long been searching for, finally free.

There wasn't one person in the gang who didn't think the cost had been too high.

The three of them came of them came out here, every weekend. It was almost like being here, they could be with Blair.

To be honest, Dutch came here more often than that. He would sit by the grave, and talk, and cry.

If anyone had seen him, they would have thought he was crazy.

He somehow managed to keep it together, when Hosea and Arthur were with him. She had been right in that respect. As long as Arthur and Hosea were with him, it would be ok.

He didn't feel ok most of the time.

Arthur had been right. He told her once that the world didn't deserve her.

Dutch, though not a great believer, felt that god had thought the same.

Arthur started to cough.

“Are you ok, son.” Dutch asked.

Arthur nodded, as he wiped the blood he had coughed into his hand, down his trousers.

Arthur sighed, he hadn’t been able to tell Dutch or Hosea, how ill he was. Not so close to losing Blair.

He only hoped that when his time came, which he felt would be soon, that he would be joining Blair, he doubted it though. Blair was pretty much guaranteed a place in heaven. Him, he thought, not so much.


End file.
